Barbed madness spirals
To the top of my skull
And I gush forth
In the purest of agony

I bring about
Menacing streams of crimson
To coalesce
To unify at the reaper’s toll

There is bedlam harbored
In the treachery
Of the tunnels I keep

Each day
I gleefully await their demise
When the fear’s overflow
And burst
Into a new, judging day

When I am ruinous
A mere aftermath
Of a great and inevitable collapse