Wither my Soul

Remember my death, I loved you the best
Where does the inspiration come from?--
From my withering soul
I stand in a plethora of gloom again
I do not know where the motivation lies
In a drought of my own doing
My thoughts do not satisfy me
One day I'll drown out of pure spite
When insatiability takes hold
The waves will take me home
I hold these indiscretions to myself
Let me bleed to the bone
Why can't I just sit here and rot?