Breathing,
Slowly dying,
On the inside,
My heart is rotting away,
My soul is drowning in crimson,
My spirit is burning and boiling alive,
An anvil feels like it's been crushing my head,
Ironing me flat,
Letting people walk all over me,
While my heart slowly decays,
The pain is like a fire feeding on my every breath,
Hopefully once i'm dead it won't feed on my death,
Gasping,
Grasping for air,
My heart has turned to soil,
My soul is now dead,
My spirit is burnt to a crisp,
My lungs are crushed from the anvil's impact of death,
Just one small short breath,
And I'll be dead,
No more pain,
No more sorrow,
Not even another tomorrow. |
