I know of how I am alone, yet only
I am not lonely,
I know not of my end
Though, I hope my soul will mend
I know not of the rest
As I write this down in the blood of the pest
I know not of why I'm alone
As I write with a pen of bone
I know not of the light above
Nor the sweetness of love
I know not of why I am here
But sometimes, I feel as if I disappear
Down the hole of insanity
Where I marvel
At the emptiness of humanity
