Acathexis - Stillborn // Isolate

Completely isolated
Born into a black abyss
No senses, no movement
A prison for the mind

I cannot understand this place
My weary eyes do not see
My withered hands do not feel
Except the darkness which fetters me

Suddenly a familiar voice pierces through the silence
It beckons me to arise
It fills me with a horror so very wretched
And reopens festering wounds

The very sound flushes cold blood through my veins
Flesh awakening to agony
Recoiling, my body wrenches within its bonds
Wretched vessel for suffering

Is my existence an abomination?
The pathetic whimpering of flesh and bone?

Is my existence an abomination?
The pathetic whimpering of flesh and bone?

There is no joy in a world like this
Where words are useless sounds uttered without reason
To speak is to foolishly clutch to meaning
To hear is to be utterly deceived

Is my existence an abomination?
The pathetic whimpering of flesh and bone?

I grow so cold again
As if I am already dead
But I am not allowed that release
I will remain here, dying forever

There is no joy in a world like this
There is no joy in a world like this
There is no joy in a world like this
There is no joy in a world like this

I grow so cold again
I grow so cold again