Sometimes, all the hefts of the world Were breathed in to my shoulders. Sometimes, even the deepest regrets, I fear why they ramble in my psyche.
Sometimes, I feel the impact of the dying generation. Sometimes, there's no utterance of words, Only grace has found me To where I veiled my every secret of humiliation.
I find it hard to try things on my own, I strained and cried with so much debts to the world. Yet, I was never satisfied And the past haunts me all over again.
All the time, I was tired I was tired of running the same race Of the adversities of the future To which I first thought Would be my safe haven. For now I know, There's no such thing as heaven on earth.
I fought the battle, so I did breathe my last now. I died, but death kept me crying. I thought my passion died too But there's no such thing as death When conceived and be born again.
I can no longer envision this ache This pain which wanes, So much that I can no longer dive in to the darkness. There's this thing: the light has blinded me. And so I shout, my soul has its own tears And black and white was the color of death.
Death is victory. Death is grace. Death is pain. Death is a risen star.