Analysis of Decay

I feel it slipping, slowly draining, gently fading into the void. There’s a depth to the expanse, ever running out of time as my memory loses grip.
Loss and loneliness fill me as my aching settles into rest.
My mind searches frantically for the things I can’t remember, but the pieces can’t find their place. A word, a name, a sound I don’t know, but I can’t find it all the same.
As the fear of fading away fills me, my mind swirls and spins around in the empty space between memories.

My anxiety builds.

Something pulls at me in the empty spaces, something I can’t remember.
Something pulls at me, and I don’t know where to run to or how to stop my inevitable implosion into absolute nothing.
With the steady march of decay upon my existence, panic and loss fill my veins as unspoken words drown my lungs, and memories hemorrhage out of the back of my mind.
The void beats down at the front of my being as purpose vacates its now unfamiliar home.
On the horizon of my failing consciousness, the fear of losing something I can’t remember flickers into being, and knots swirl in my stomach, wrenching a twisting sickness in my soul.
Just beyond the grip of my being, a memory I can’t recall fills me with dread and the words etched upon my heart now fade out of recognition.
The fear of things I can’t remember starts to rise in my chest and the warmth slowly begins to fade as the cool hands of nothing stretch out around me.
The flame of my consciousness, once bright and ablaze, now flickers and quivers and the cogs of life slow within me.
My purpose, now forgotten, my will, once unbroken, lay cold and out of motion at the gate of the void in my mind.
With one foot through the veil, my soul slips quietly into nothing’s cold gravity.
My body withers and my mind shivers in the winter of my forgotten memories as the lights fade away, and sorrow abandons its post.
Cold, hollow emptiness wears my bones like a crown, and the void takes its place upon the throne of my absence.
Time marches on, ever forward, ever brisk.
Not slowing, not stopping, only marching through the void.
I begin to fall into nothing, slipping past what I once knew, coming to rest in purposelessness.

Consciousness fades away and in the darkness, I rest.
Like a dead star, I am cold, and where purpose once stood, linger the contrails of my humanity, now forgotten in the marching of time.