The exquisite machinery of torture

A sustained static gaze, oblivious to surroundings.
Empty, strained, unmoving eyes Introverted, paralyzed
A burning mass of emotions denied, enraged by years of silencing.
An accumulation of feelings suppressed, returning to devour.
Bright rays of chaos, generated by subconsciousness.
A retribution by own thoughts twisting the mind into fits
Fuelled with pains unveiled. Burning with contamination.
Set afire by disowned self-lies they penetrate the eyes.

I... Am I the next? Self inflicted overload.
Thoughts returning to think me away.
I... Will I be reprieved,
or am I just awaiting the sentence of my exquisite,
internal machinery of torture

The turmoil arises, from the innermost core of denial.
Shining streams of putrefaction, reflugent with disease -
In outward motion to redress the balance by retaliation.
A terminal journey to relieve cognition of Ability
Minds lit like candles, by rejected senses and emotions.
Tearing flames, born in mind Creations of self deception.
Strained, not to lose the grip - Humans locked in the new disease.
A light by eyes unseen has come to burn us clean.

[Chorus:] I... Am I the next?.......

I sense The facilities of the bodily Discorporated by the light
All my pleas denied
By my psychological enemy
The inner light unseen

I... I'm deceived by my
Receiving eyes - susceptible
to the endless killing-sights

Consciousness fails the grip. Substance now decreasing
Amorphous. Without shape - I'm vanishing dematerialized
My own corrosive thoughts - Probes armed with acid tools
Disintegrated, I'm bleached out of reality
Scattered bits internally My last transparent remains
Floating objects inanimate Spinning into my soul
Defeated by my contents. Tables turned, I'm a thought repressed
I'm swallowed into myself. Destination nothingness

I... Am I the next? Self inflicted overload
Thoughts returning to think me away
I... Will I be reprieved
Or am I just awaiting the sentence of my exquisite,
internal machinery of torture
I... I've been the next. My self inflicted overload,
My neglected thoughts have thought me undone.
I... I was never reprieved
Now I know the sentence of me exquisite,
internal machinery of torture