The kingdom fall

I'll lay down tonight to realise tomorrow that my will to get up, my strength, my desire is no longer there, it still doesn't exists, it still doesn't think the same that I do. Tonight I'll gaze at the stars and look for the cold comfort of the moon because the emptiness as come upon me once again. Oh the horror, oh the drama. I don't need this, I don't need to have my mind focused on what's wrong or right, only on me, more now than ever. And she has showed me that I won't be anything more than this... it's cold inside, it's all dead.
The days have passed, the wounds still remain. The wolves cry in silence in the middle of the trees. A shadow moves by, the hunter has the light, the reflection of the moon in his eyes. To them I'm nothing more than the soul that killed God, the one that continues to be the slave to the sweet surrendering of his mind. And the hurt will continue, it seems to be my will. I continue to punish myself, in my way to self-destruction. I'm always reaching for another hole, another black and empty cave where I can rest my head and finally die. Because I've never been nothing at all, I'm never been the help that anyone needs.
No cry, no sadness, just closure and silence. And continuous self hate. Nothing more. And that's me.