Disguised icons
Unscalable mountains
Of submissive repetitions
They rage, they burn, no page, left unturned
This trumped up roaring
Of a lifeless call
The thoughts that soaring
Will inevitably fall
An act of splendor
Will come out sordid
This dismal ender
Is always morbid
Fatal wounds
Broken bones
Ripped and shredded
The nails embedded
Deed
My sorrow
Darkens back to the loss of all light
My sorrow
Ablaze in the darkness of an eternal night
There was a light in the midst of our angst
Which shone brightly on our misfortune
And cast shadows wherе hiding were scarce
So wе huddled betwixt our own darkness
There we spend our time contemplating
And arose with our shadowy halos
What was born from the absence of meaning
Was defining for our existence
There is no hope for leaving
There is no hope for peace
There is no hope of meaning
There's no last release
Beneath this fragile surface
My life is failing me
There is no hope or purpose
No, "To be or not to be"
I want to go but linger
I do know the solution
At me I point my finger
But I lack the resolution
Dead, dead, dead, dead
Dead inside, dead inside, dead inside
Im dead inside
