The roadblock I fright,
That stops the light,
that comes out white,
As I write,
My existence light aflame,
I don't know what I've become
It's almost done,
When I leave you'll succeed
To finish it off is guaranteed,
When I'm deceased.
Woke up at one, went to sleep at seven,
Showed up at two, left to soon,
The afternoon is bright,
but I can't help but fright
That the fight that heightens in the evening,
Won't stop until I'm bleeding,