Little deaths

Every day was another death.
Something inside dying.
Before long, humanity would be lost.
He never have a thought.
He no longer cared.
His heart turned to ash,
his human nature past despair.
It was impossible to love,
When you have no heart.
No tear shed,
When lovers have to part.
Every day brought him
Closer to the end.
And all he could think of was release.