My paranioa has thickened into this solid layer of agony surrounding my dying flesh. Slowly consuming my already deteriorating soul I have nothing but this blank wall staring back at me. I have God. But Satan had overrun me.

A test by God? Im trying not to fail but damn the agony. Thou shalt not fail with patience.

The ravens in the sky are getting impatient. Unwilling to wait, they pick on your brains to quicken the rate of your falling. You declared yourself as the fallen but a part of you remained willing to fight. If helplessness is my definition of fighting, then yes, fight.

The war of heaven and hell in every dream in every night. Visions after visions. They wont come true. But you feel it. Just paranoia. Just paranoia. But its killing me.