There's no hope for solace in this abyssal despair. Not a soul breaths in this darkness that even evil refuses to inhabit.

All alone, I shudder, letting go of the last hold on sanity. Like a maniac, I tear my soul into irrecoverable pieces. More and more the filth consumes the small hope I carried.

No right to hope nor cry, I am one with the void.

If this is love then surely I am dying. 

I try to stop the feeling from welling up. My vision blurs and all I can think about is the rising sensation.

The sensation culminates in a dry heave.

I shudder, wondering if this sensation is a rejection of my being.

The echoes of darkness close in.

If one is to give false hope, then remember to hide the void behind.
For the baited would be swallowed by this vacuum of despair once they see the truth.