R.I.P
Yep, that's me.
My grave, is my soul.
It's taking a toll.
I know my own fate.
My name is my grave.
My grave is my pain.
My pain rules my day.
You can't understand..
What is within my hand...
The dates, the place..
My ears... and my face...
The air, begins too rot..
Don't you think a lot?
What is in the beginning?
What is in the end?
The answer is simple, listen my friend.
Depression exists, in existence and none existence.
Pain is here, no matter what world you live in.
The chords too the music we play, are dismal...
How do we all fit well?
We are broken pieces, two halves too a heart...
But hearts don't connect, if they don't share the same scars...
A friend of mine lost her entire family..
Another, her friends...
I lost my mother, my father, my family... the...
Our family's are torn apart...
As we begin too rot...
But I will not explain too you, the rest of my plot.
Existence is futile, we only serve one purpose..
That is too go through tests, upon test, that seem too surface..
It may seem depressing... it may seem sad...
But the examiner, is not mad.
He has no flaws, he has no wrong.
He only wants you, with him or gone.
So choose you this day who you will serve...
As for me, I will serve his word...
And Now I say too you goodbye..
Sorry for not spending a lot time, too create more rhymes...
I only know what is in store for my fate...
So R.I.P My Name
