Terminal کے بول

My mind circulates Thoughts of passing Discolored and dry Terrified Bled of connection Voiceless Dejected Without definition I'll be no one To obliterate the mind's invention I'll surrender to mouthing affirmations Helpless in my own severance Eaten up by my own thoughts Dangerous in my ignorance Deep in my dead revolving dream Mourning my body Dull and frail I'll be no one