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The pain circles around him like a vulture.
A dead man still living, nothing but shadows encapsulates his mind.
Nothing but emptiness encases his heart.
Broken when he was born,
born only for a living death that is his life.
And he is not wanted, and he is not needed, his existence no more than a random roll of the dice.
He lives in hell, his dreams the only escape.
Too many scars tell his story, too many lines tell his fate.
Peace is not for him, nor heaven a place he shall see.
Obscurity his only journey,
Escapism his only destiny.
A dead man still living, nothing but shadows encapsulates his mind.
Nothing but emptiness encases his heart.
Broken when he was born,
born only for a living death that is his life.
And he is not wanted, and he is not needed, his existence no more than a random roll of the dice.
He lives in hell, his dreams the only escape.
Too many scars tell his story, too many lines tell his fate.
Peace is not for him, nor heaven a place he shall see.
Obscurity his only journey,
Escapism his only destiny.
