As the Raven's Cries become more serener
I dream of nothing more but thee...

The bittersweet smell
so dead and impure...

Things i thought i had
things i loved the most...

A rope at my hand
a knife at my side...

My intellect is as bvroken glass
shattered across my depressing history...

All the pain it brought
allt he tears it stole...

Blank and bland
is how i stand...

Stitched together was my heart
from when you left me alone & so mere...