Inside a hollow room he floats in a mist of memory
transforming a life that holds thousand d**hs
Suffering one, as weak as crestfallen essence
Inside a hollow room, he struggles the pains climax
draining the purpose to exist
Crossing the gates of consiousness, taking ecstacy of grief...
Did I swear understanding?
to leave these tragedies for me?
For this life holds no more but a view; a solemn colour to the hanging trees
A celebration of my own
troubled eyes of my inner self
...wide open, blinded by fevers that devour
A little drop of heartblood, a precious drop of pain
fragments of pa**ing days, draining this life away
...and so I lose myself, I close my eyes
there's something deep inside that has already died
...draining, fading away...