This corpse lays before me, rotting
I can feel the decay
I can smell the death
I can see old blood stains
But I still hang onto something
Some sliver of hope
That this corpse is still salvageable
That there is still a heart beating
That blood still pumps in this body
That something is still alive in there
There is nothing left
And yet, I can't fathom
That this is really it
That there is nothing left
It's all been bled
And it's all dead
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC
This corpse lays before me, rotting
I can feel the decay
I can smell the death
I can see old blood stains
But I still hang onto something
Some sliver of hope
That this corpse is still salvageable
That there is still a heart beating
That blood still pumps in this body
That something is still alive in there
There is nothing left
And yet, I can't fathom
That this is really it
That there is nothing left
It's all been bled
And it's all dead
This has nothing at all to do with the death of an actual person.
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