Erode the Person - Noothgrush

Born into a state of decay

The spirit, like soil, erodes

Devoid of sustenance

All life withers

Infected from the beginning

Bred of negativity

Engrave my hate in bitter skin

Drift into a comfortable abyss

Embittered from years of this

Time and time again

My spirit has been soiled

Maintained by perpetual hate

Incapable of growth

All seeds feed the disease

I’ll always be alone

Like I’ve been since I was born

A battered, weakened stray

Embraced by my dejection

Yield to grasp of self-worthlessness

Yield to grasp of self-worthlessness