• Pain of the world
    becomes pain of the soul.
    I ask my friends for help
    but "that is not their role."


    I try to find a way
    to make this torture end,
    by lieing "i'm OK!"
    though I know its all pretend.


    Bleeding on the inside,
    I try to let it out
    but my words make no sounds
    even when I scream and shout.


    A prisioner in my body.
    A life truely lived in chains.
    With only one way to escape
    my earthly troubles and pains.


    Now it is all over,
    I am lying on the floor.
    A gun in my hand and a bullet in my head,
    better not open the door.