Pure
   dreadful torment courses through my veins like sand flowing from one
level of an hourglass to the other, time running out.
Agony
   of my tormented past lurking in the contours of my face, masked each day
   like some sort of routine. Grasped as beauty, concealed behind what
sincerely
seethed
   away everything I thought composed to be beauty.
My
  notion of silently mutating into this perplexed figure of ominous thoughts
  and dreams that we can only visualize in the deepest abyss of our
soul
   that is the least bit enticing. Tempted to let myself slip down that path just
   to experience its twisted emotions, just for the hell of it..