Bound

This disease makes me feel so sick, sick, sick. No fair consequence...My tired consciousness, raped off all innocence. These broken parts constant, relentless. And death of this predates the silence. I can't communicate. It's too late and yet I wait for and end of this. Repititious sequences. Never lifted of the heavy weight conscious. Not given a single chance, and infected by your ignorance. This life equates no sense, attenuates my lack of faith, it's wy too late. Tho I wait, an end of this, one way, not the other. Damn I'm pissed.