Again I wake up away from home
Like a lost soul I shriek for reality
To undo this obvious confusion,
I walk on a street paved with skulls and bones,
The road is covered by a steady flow of blood
Amid flesh and skin.
”Who did this?”
The little voice in me questions.
The crimson rain, the pain only gains more
Affliction to my already dented soul,
Now I sit with my head on the railway line
Waiting for the beast that craws there to come and steal
This mistake for a life I hate to live.
Another heart bleeds, another mother moans,
Another day of sheer destruction befalls us.
How did I become this…this unfeeling animal?
Somewhere in this human shell,
I find myself lost deep inside me.
At night, the little voice in me tells me to take lives:
To separate body and soul of they that are pure at
Heart, she tells me to kill again and again.
I now know why I wake up with blood in my hands.
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