I’ve caught the bug
And now I wait for death.
My every muscle and every bone.
Nerves on end
Exposed to rotten elements.
The air I breathe. It hurts.
The nourishment I receive
It does not heal.
Everything makes it worse.
The pain I feel has been there since all of time
And I fear the fear I feel will be there till the end of time.
There is no hope and all is futility.
There is no cure and any attempt will kill me.
The bug, the bug,
It’s in my body, in my mind, and in my soul.
I have turned into it and now I bug.
Call out and scream.
Cry and dare not dream,
Cause this bug it thrives
on dreams and everything
it induces is only to feed itself.
I am stuck in this repeating cycle
bug, egg, maggot, bug.
All the stench in the world, feeds it.
All the money in the world, heals it.
And it hums as it bums
from me the essence of my live.
It steals it, rips it off, and takes it as its own.
I am the glop it leaves behind,
A mound of flesh and broken bones.