Are you… dead?
That moment when you are hanging?
When there is no more room;
When before you only is doom.
Nothing to lose, nothing to win,
just counting, sin by sin…
Animal before death,
stomped in the head.
That’s a terrible thing.
That’s a mad thing..

You know you’ve reached the end,
but you still have some breath on your hand.
How does that feel?
Are you afraid of your death that comes?
Or are you just ashamed of how your life has passed?
What goes in your head?
Do you recall every single memory?
Or are you just blank?
You between boulders,
the blade is on your neck,
the coffin is beneath your feet.
No more cards, no more moves;
You already played your deck…
Do you scream or do you just leave it silently bleed?

The one that has fully lived,
he doesn’t need hope no more;
for him everything is fullfilled.
Is there really such a man, a man that is truly full?
Has anybody finished the maze,
and went away with a smile on the face?