Self-Inflicted

Being reminded that being in control means losing control.

I am at the bottom of my pit,
Broken and bleeding from my self-severed limbs.
The world under my control has led me here.
What began as a bunker became a grave.
I surrenedered my voice to get here.
The light faded when I pushed the sun away.
My only escape wil be the erosion of the walls around me.

There is no sense without thought.
My control is my demise.