A voice willing to be heard, not willing to speak out
Is lost in a absent world,
A world of no existence
backed down into an endless broken hole
Waiting for a distant call from a memory of a boy
A boy she once loved
Before loved before she was hit
Hit with a a blood thirsty bullet
Shot through the heart
She started to fall into this great hole
Deeper and deeper she fell.
Into a red stream
She hesitantly look up
She soon saw her very face
She saw her body
Saw a boy crying, yelling with bloody hands
The same blood, it seemed,
That she was swarmed in
Furious there was splashes and kicks
As she drowned herself
Back down into the blood
Only to be killed into another hole again
She was a voice willing to be heard
But not willing to speak out
Because the voice, once again, had been crucified
Twas silenced by death for the third time
Only waiting for a single call
A call from a boy she once knew
