it's to late
i'm already dead
my blood runs cold
and it's no longer red.

no feeling for me
the days never end
i wish to see
but i cannot mend.

i wish for happy
but alas it will not come
i'm begging for a chance
too late, i am done.

Hello, pain, my old friend.
Can we converse
In tounges again?

Splintered feelings
And despret calls
Leave me alone
In desolate halls.

I must return
To the world I know
Of feeling nothing
Of feeling cold.

Pain: so easy
To believe
I'll stay forever
With no relief.