Nervous Norman

Nervous Norman’s Ills lie dormant
He tries fruitlessly to fend off torment
Of course, to no avail
The blood it drains, thin and fast
And leaves him deathly pale
The faceless dread fills his head
Jolts and volts and strange sensations
Muddy visions and sultry glands
Clasping tightly to his hapless hands
He gasps the last of the bitter air
As he plummets headlong into despair
A thoughtless fright plagues his night
Severed, sapped and saturated, oh, he’s sweating bullets
Choking on the cotton cloth trapped inside his gullet
Down the spiral flute he shoots with vile unbridled vigour
Time and time again it comes, born from any trigger
A malevolence so merciless, clings to his frail mind
And as he drowns beneath the waves of thoughts
He looks on defeatedly, and accepts his grim demise