• Scratch marks on the wall tell me seven days have pass,
    checking shilouettes for you, i am trapped pleading for you help,
    a stick in the mud, pull me out or are you here anymore?
    or have you been enjoying my agony?
    searching the ceiling for a drip,
    prolong this rotting just too show how much i would do,
    would you too?, or pass without a wave goodbye,
    you've opened a world of colours and vivid sights,
    from my hollow, black and white world then threw me back in,
    why were you so giving?, and then so taking?
    now i am weak and shaking, but does this even matter,
    behide me is a blood splatter.

    You ripped my soul from my chest, and laid me to eternal rest,
    and by the last things you said, you set me afloat too the after life,
    on my vessel, that was once my very own bed.