Wanting to rest, to sleep forever.

Don't tell me that life will get better.

Perhaps it's true I've learned not to cry.

But better only comes the day I die.




Lying cold in satin sheets,

many read but no one weeps.

Empty eyes watch clouds roll in.

Last page of the book, the end.




Wanting to dream,

but lost the will.

Hope is something,

that this world kills.

Wanting to trust,

to believe in you.

Finding only lies,

you can't stay true.




Bury me now, deep in the ground.

All these rambles dull fading sounds.

Pale skin marked by scars and time.

The pen bleeds one more rhyme.




Carve me a stone, or plant a tree.

My life is a story you'll never see.

Going to heaven where some God lives.

Hope somehow that I can forgive.




Forget me now,

rotting away.

This is your life,

you can die any day.

Do what you can

before the bell chimes.

Your becoming a corpse

one day at a time.