He is losing his grip on solid ground, becoming drunk from the taste of irresponsibility. He is growing numb, giving in and delving deep into a stupor, entering apathy. Bound in nothingness, devoid of purpose, Shrouded in cynicism, Shrouded in nihilism. He has lost his will to fight for perspective. And his sight: distorted, twisted beyond recognition. He is growing numb, giving in and delving deep into a stupor, entering apathy. His existance with failing reason, consciousness bleeding dry. Bound in nothingness, devoid of purpose. There's an itch , begging him for pain, buried deep inside, he is digging. Ripping skin apart, scraping for blood. Grief, guilt, hatred: in control. Nothing matters but pain and pleasure. Gluttony, adultery now his true desired treasure. Live like the dead and die all the same. He hates all that he is, he hates what he became. A life without truth, without God: He is bound in nothingness, devoid of purpose.