The Hunger of the Sickness of the Mind

The plague of sickness of the mind watches

Waiting for its chance to strike

And when it strikes

Your mind will be spinning

Spinning so fast that you can’t see,

Nor think straight

It will be like having shards of glass flying around your face

Slicing and dicing as it goes

And when it’s done with you

You won’t know what hit you

Then it will move on to the next victim

And it will never stop feasting