Last day here, wandering
Through the bleak paths
Intoxicated
And dead to life...
Maggots, through my
Veins rotting my flesh
Only one thought
Leads to my emptiness
The void of my soul,
My soul to the void
Are memories eaten
By the pain of my mind
Last day here, the seasons of my heart
Are those of winter days
Blurry infinity...
Frozen atmosphere
The cold unsual path off nothing
Silent screams in my mind
Haunted by the lack of light
The ice on my hands
Is the sadness of the living...
Each disease is a piece of art...
And I am the artist of my pain
I am the between of life and death
Now in a vague and gloomy world
I see the maggots feast on my flesh
I see my body devoured, and destroyed
By the time there's nothing left
But the dust of my time
In melancholy
Dieser text wurde 130 mal gelesen.