It Drains Your Soul Poem by James McLain

from the inside
looking outside
from the downcast one with time
the city which with night became it never falls like dawn
but the dead, which in sleep think of the living.
and each person walking by becomes insane
and she which is unfortunate does not it fear
lurking deep the sleep it comes
which runs eternal turns him over on the ocean
beast between her lower parts held the witch he sees
and she to him with which it is, she sings
too put the hunter of the shadow which awakens
there you dwell.
feasting at the table and her breasts for him are bared
beings are not devastated from the madness,
which is Immortal
where happens not to make it be your own,
and your moderator
which is the fraud which is life eternal many more
each successive generation dead which is dying,
does not know the claim that brings us back
it drains your soul, confronts the fact that it does not become.
what it was you were too them you are no more, because
in death you are worth more than when you were alive.