Dead...
Dead...
I am so locked down, in the opinion of others,
There is a void which is unfun that bothers,
Thy love, for me, seems to be gone,
Because there are paper and pen; I am writing songs
Ours vows meant so much to me,
But now there is so much hatred literally,
I admit in the walk of life, I'm so engrossed,
Collecting money to live with you posh,
But by the time we acquire things I need,
We would be distant, in lands of unknown creed,
My walk once away from this world would be forever,
Though I desire your company, I would not bother,
I am so domesticated, so hump dry,
That world around has almost died,
Breath is the dead stench, even tears are blackened,
I am waiting for the soul to be taken at the world end,
In these past years, my tears have been dried,
There is no remorse, no emotion, then dead fly,
Like a walking corpse, I suck dry of joy and fun,
“Deadman walking”, is no longer a pun...