The Grim song of the Soul
When the time starts flowing through your heartbeat,
When your nerves start counting every second of the clock,
When life seems stuck choking you in your throat,
That’s when you start dying under the rock.
The rock that has been growing for ages now,
Slowly blocking your realm from the hues,
Greying each day and then black to dark,
Injuring your soul from the reds to the blues.
The blues that will leave a hundred scars,
And some of those will never fade away,
Burning every bit of your skin and bones,
Crushing you for life, putting light at bay.
The light that your eyes will never again see,
For they will only see what has fallen from above,
A destiny to die under your own dilemmas,
Of whether you are hated, or someone they love.
Love that never seems complete,
Slipping away from your hands and their heart,
And you keep on craving to fill the emptiness,
For feeling sorry for yourself is your favorite art.