How many times will I have to touch a cold body
and look at its lifeless grin?
How many more times must I see the ones I love
join the eternal bliss?
I feel trapped
in this nightmare,
reality,
so called life.
Escape,
escape,
I must break away.
The thought of life,
of death,
repels us all.
Our existence is a sickness
that cannot be cured.
We can only hope to subdue it,
with drugs,
with fantasies,
with faith.
It's only the dead that live in peace.
The funerals we attend
are to remorse the living,
the suffering,
the ones that bleed everyday
and never
die.
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