Satan, the creator,
Manifest the demons.
Create the pain and suffering,
Turn the humans into monsters.
Oh no, they are already here.
I am a walking dead why zombie skin?
Burn my flesh and rip my heart,
Dead is what i-might-have-been!
You must be grieving!
I cannot reach my face!
You must be bleeding!
There's nothing left to waste!
The last thing i heard from you,
Were cries and dumb goodbyes!
Never thought you'd leave me here,
On the floor, to die!!!!
My consciousness lay there in bed.
A sorrow mind in empty head.
Satan, the creator,
Bring me the eternity.
Between life and death ,
I stay stuck in dirt.
Mud is what i'm covered in.
Sickness is not my disease.
Mental issues are not my priority.
Several thoughts that i dismiss.
Where's your faith of clearity?
