Cubicle

from Anular Dystopia by Descensvs

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lyrics

The agony percolates until it possesses the oxygen of everything else. It's taking shape, whispers to me.

Goes through my chest… My eyes are wide as it claims I belong to it. It says that time by my side is wasted time. That I'll never set foot outside this cubicle.

In the lap of nostalgia I let myself die, glimpsing the chants of these waning phobias.

Everything I've created has contributed to opening this hole...

Which I feel that sooner rather than later... Will be my grave. In how many situations have I made a fetish of my outpourings of grief?

Is it that in this reality I've only been able to stay on my feet by filling my head with gushing mantras?

The agony... It's taking shape. Whispers to me. It forces me to know that I'll never set foot outside this cubicle.

My cognitive state is broken... I'm more and more confined, each day I'm more inferior than the previous one.

And again it crosses my chest, it compresses me. I let myself die... In the lap of nostalgia.