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...