My mountains
That in this rotting chamber of a body
Like a last trump in my inner torment
Fords of cold stone
My fjords
Anchoring in this hole shall
These aching anemic wounds
The gaping gaps
My forests
Glimmer repressed deep in my soul
Darkness fell so hardy
Light does not let go further in
I make sleep on the hour
As my breaths are led towards the end
Life has no relief
Only Death has the ability