Pull the plug put a halt to the war in my mind.
I'm lacking stability, the voices will only grow louder.
I will scream at the top of my lungs the haggard I've become.
And I'll summon the omens beneath the threshold of my purity.

The existence of my casualty has become an irrelevancy.
All that's known is the soul is stained ebony.
I'm sustaining through this inception, subsisting by the demons.

I am now the evil that rested on my chest
The nightmare is now reality.

Encounters of the heretics emerged from my dreams.
They were the ones with the knifes sawing off my face.
They wanted me to extinguish my identity and replicate theirs.

I am now the evil that rested upon my chest.

They made an incision at the top of my head, clawed their way into the gears of my soul.

I am dead!