Life Is Pain Oppressive Nights In Mental Asylum
White rooms and walls, bars in windows,
taste for blood, depression,
oppressive atmosphere of closed space,
tears and despair.
Time is slow, days melt,
emptiness' smell of dead life.
Negativity streams through my sick body,
dark winds of dreamy lands soothe.
Insignificant treatment,
my soul will stay in grief,
I won't leave my autumn,
thorns will still make pain.
