| black, and acoloured scene behind
|
| black, are my eyes shut or black
|
| a collapsed reality out of my numb mind
|
| boundless dark or a locked self
|
| my life is passing by
|
| memoirs of decay
|
| lost on the stage
|
| like scenes of a play
|
| a tragedy standing still
|
| or forgotten under years of dust
|
| I imagine to see, but my sight is asleep
|
| my brain is not
|
| there is so much pain
|
| I can hear what I breathe
|
| not air but some speech
|
| a funeral echo far away
|
| yet some creatures are here
|
| on my unseen skin, consuming my hands
|
| they are devouring me, they are devouring me
|
| devouring me
|
| words fade away
|
| they are blessing my soul
|
| I can feel something cold
|
| not fear, my blood
|
| I imagine to see, but my sight is asleep
|
| my brain is not
|
| there is so much pain
|
| I can hear what I breathe
|
| not air but some speech
|
| a funeral echo far away
|
| yet some creatures are here
|
| on my unseen skin, consuming my hands
|
| they are devouring me, they are devouring me
|
| devouring me
|
| boundless dark in my inner self
|
| my life is passing by
|
| the blackest silk, crawling worms
|
| this is my coffin I am dead |