A scarlet flower on his wrist, His vision starts to cloud with mist, He's slipping down the cold, wet floor, No strength to hold him up no more;
he smiles even through the pain, The shower turned on, dripping like rain, Nothing left to keep him sane, His blood spreading as a scarlet stain;
He dimly hears his favorite song, The desire to live not anymore so strong, He wants to disappear and fade, Like a blossom in a glade;
The pain's slowly leaving him, Nothing left but a shell on the floor, His soul reaches out toward the bright light, He's finally happy, happy in flight