The page . . .  tearly splattered
The nerves . . . completely shattered
My pen bleeds ink upon the page

The world just collided
All fates now be decided
Still my pen bleeds ink upon the page

There will be no tomorrow
Just the thoughts of impending sorrow
And my pen will still be bleeding on this page

I should have done it better
The page is getting wetter
Since the faces bleed tears like ink upon the page

I will not be for hallowed
When I lay prone and fallowed
Still my pen will be bleeding in the dust

And when the ink is gone
And the words run along
Only then will I lay my pen aside

Until then my pen will keep on bleeding on the page