It will take more than a shaman
To find meanings in a thing so vague
These premonitions perpetuated through fatalism
I only consider self-esteem to be a fallacy
My state of mind rooted in the subconscious
Is watered through thoughts unwanted
Through photosynthesis, I inherit a mental disease
The one thing on which to feed, the essential poison
My brain eats itself
And through secretion,
my dreams can yell!
It has become a habit
To inhabit the thoughts of others
A healthy meal to ponder
Though still starving as I wander
Everywhere I tread is like quicksand
As confidence sinks lower
Still no feeble minds to feed upon
Hunter becoming hunted, as others like me tread near
With only the option to feed upon myself
I indulge in my withering soul
The will to live is built on good foundation
Though my will to die stems from vanity's tempation