I have but forgotten
The taste of bread
The feel of grass
The smell of wind
The sound of water
I have but forgotten

My windows are shut dead
My sinew rigid as lead
My skin burns with the stench of coal
As my heart quietly succumbs to the cold

Fangs bite into my eyes
As they peer numbly through lies
Unknown of what may be
Lest the blade roars in fury

Fear not of me
Fear not for me
Fear not to love me, to hate me,
to cherish me, to deny me
For it is the path I that chose to succumb
It is what I have become.