The drums in my ears, the galloping of horses right behind my back,
I stand looking at the murky thick fog, with the word ringing in my ears, "Attack!"
I stand still, pondering of what to do and why,
Pondering in my head, why don't I just die…
The black hooded riders gallop on their horses right behind me,
There is a legion of them, thick as smoke with no hope of being free,
Ravens screech above my head, smoke pours from my head, back and shoulders,
I want to reach out, want to give up with this feeling of me being crushed by a million boulders…
My head drums, my temples throb, my vision goes blurry and hazy,
My eyes cloud with a murky green color of insaneness, I'm going crazy,
I grab my sharp big knife, and start to stroke it absent mindly,
Meanwhile, I struggle on, with the hooded riders behind my back whle I stumble on-ward blindly…
I still have hope in my heart, as my feet carry me,
I look at the dim pale objects of people, walking happily and free,
While I… stumble in this murky thick fog, and behind me there is hooded figures with their swords,
The numbers so many of them, it's like black thick smoke, except of the figures there is hordes and hordes and hordes………
I fall on my knees, stumbling over ****** grass,
I see holy-water ahead, but the smoke atop my head tells me to pass,
Falling on my face, I give up, breathing hard and almost dead,
I give my last efforts, when a figure gallops up to me on a stallion and with it's sword just cleanly slices off my head…
The blood paints the grass, as my hand is holding the knife,
The blade is stabbed deep inside my chest, taking away my life,
My eyes go pale and my body stays motionless, in a death-like freeze,
The fog clears, the figures disappears as the smoke gets blow away by the soft gentle breeze......
~Mishka Wayz~
(The fog is caused by my thinking vision, the hooded figures are dark thoughts and wishes, the smoke above my head is my depressions, the Holy water is a friend who will really care about me, the boulders are the bad things that I remember I did in the past, and the Ravens are tauntings from my low-self esteem self)
