It has been much too long; living decay.
My lifes true meaning lost in light.
I pain and I pain, but the words.
They're the same.
Maybe I've lost it.
I can't write for shit.
My blood at negative 20;
I've long deceased.
This light, it blinds me, and I hate.
We seek happiness in light,
But I'm nocturnal.
I thrive off darkness and despair.
Sunshine and rainbow is the shit,
That''s unfair.
The pens run dry and my bloods frozen.
What the fuck will I write with?
Nothing at all.
I call it quits.
I've written all I can write.
I'll kill myself.
It's easy with a lack of life.
