My Monster
I see my dreams shatter on the steel structure of my life,
I’m afraid my mind is leaving me; it won’t cut like a knife.
Am I really becoming what I always feared I would be?
Is this some kind of cruel sarcasm, or is it diabolic irony?
I feel I’m losing the very last of my conscious thoughts,
I’m steaming from the sea of knowledge with a hundred knots.
Is this the end? Has faith finally come? Will I recover,
Or will the grim face of the reaper take me far lover?
I am afraid. What has become of me? A monster you say,
A monster, who’s mind didn’t stop working to this day.
The cold temptation of evil draws me near each hour,
Trying to lock up my thoughts in my head’s tower.
Than the man stood still, no more words, he just lie,
Knowing that in fourteen days he would once more die.
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