How sweet are the lilies she grips in her hands
As white as her dress in the moonlight
Yet she inhales harshly through her withering lungs
She gazes towards the sky with tearing eyes
The cold emptiness burning inside her chest
She whispers the words under her breath
"One day I will be the lucky one"
"One day I will be the lucky one"
"One day I will be the lucky one"
The words float to the sky
The lilies turn red
She has no control over her head
She drops to the ground and the grass becomes her bed
Staring at the moon she crys once more
"One day I will be the lucky one"
Hoping with all her might that it will come true
And her life was taken too soon
By the knife they call depression
The bullet they call sorrow
The rope they call lonliness
And if your heart is beating
Then you are the lucky one
Because most of us are bleeding from self-destruction

Sorrow is when your angel weeps for your soul.
Because you gave up and became cold

There once was a meadow
It made me feel mellow
So I said hello,
From the other side.
The side of darkness and despair
The carcass of a dead hare
I never used to care
About the the flowers that were there

when the night comes silently
and all the world is asleep and still,
when the minutes and seconds
are suspended and slowed down
and the city becomes a whisper,
that is when i wake up.
night time is my time
to feel, to cry, to think, to write,
to be myself, by myself,
on my own terms.
by day i am a walker,
a zombie, a nothing,
just waiting
for the lights to go out.
in the darkness, i am
a beacon of light.

in darkness i am the light.