"How would you ever wonder if one is born...
Dark thoughts filled my mind...

I filled my tub with my own blood,
Countless stabs, I smelled myself fresh...

"Nah... I'm the writer but not the poem's...
Today of sullen mood...

Another day with shackled hands,
I was sprawled on one corner...

Will wait for another drink,
Instead of wine, I drank the rain...

All lives, see them phased out,
Lonely scars marked each trail...