My addiction to the moons nurture

Is a plea to keep on being

With it, my veins, so void of colour

Can endure the flow of blood

To this slowly rotting mind

I shall wallow in the particles of my delusion

Relishing the luminously ashen complexion

That will doubtlessly nourish

The desire of my undoing

Devoid of spirit

My soul will crumble if I don't seek the moon

Leaving only the remnants

Of this withered life

And as I bask in the particles of my delusion

I savour the sweet truth that

A wilting flower can never bloom

All I ever wanted anyway

Was to slowly waste away