When seeing my entire
forlorn crusade in a second
the consciousness of my own existence
blows my mind up
Alone, with the pieces of it
I scream the question:
Why?

Here are only echoes of my voice
roaming through the emptiness
There has to be a way to exit
Nothing can stop this everlasting
bleeding and kill my pain
exept this:

Cold, sharp, piece of steel
starting to rust, entering my skin
cutting me several times
severing my palm away from thy arm
and moves upper
as I do my exit