It's really cold in here
The place is pitch black...
No where near passionate life or the fateful dead
Not able to feel any bliss or a trace of dread...
Cutting is the only pain I can control,
When I cut, it feels like all my problems leave...
My train of thought has just derailed
Into my heart something impaled...
The trees whispered with the winds
As death exhumed the earth...
When Hurricanes and Sand Storms Invade the Skies
and over masses of corpses linger hordes of Flies...
It is often said that mankind thrives on light
That hope is the food that fuels the soul to fight...
Light turns dim
Darkness conquers all...
A bleeding curse prey on my existence.
It follows and devours in its own twisted fashion...
Shield your eyes from the lonely girl,
Her face full of piercings, her heart...
Fifty,
were for you, about you...
I hear voices in my head
Does that mean I am insane...