I died today and went to Hell,
I was destined for this place, oh well!
I loved the people there,
we all got along even if there wasn't a prayer,
Not a Prayer for him or her or it.

At least I felt the pain tonight,
the thorns of love made me write...
I feel my heart pours out emotions too deep to consider,
in the past I'd sell my emotions to the highest bidder.
Beauty and insanity go well together but all is overlooked.

Yet I'm weakest when I love anything or* anyone,
it gives me purpose even when I have *none,
I care for it, them or* myself,
It's crazy thinking I never cared to love myself left on a *shelf...
Somewhere in the past like an old, outdated book I'm lost forever.