Nothing

Torn to die, mess to mold, nothing to live, nothing to hold. Turn to me, and you see, what has become of this fine mess you weaved. Life is dead. The world is gray. Nothing to sing, nor to dance, nothing but to cry over a lost romance. The sun light dies, the moon becomes a shadow, nothing is beautiful, nothing is bright. Mirrors and broken, blood is on the ground, nothing of my heart is near, nothing can be found. Nothing can be moved, nothing can be said, of the pain you brought, upon my heart and head. My skull is cracking, my blood turns to blue, I’m dying inside, all because of you.