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