I drift into the darkness of my tortured soal,
Crying silently as I slip closer to psychosis,
Living in my own demented dream,
Death would be a releasment, but I cannot die.

Then I hear your voice,
A caring, frightened voice,
That shatters the silence,
And awakes me from my slumber.

My Eyes flutter open,
Only to see you dead beside me,
And still I hear you,
Screaming my already forgotten name.

Death would be a releasment, but I cannot die.

I drift back to my dream,
And await the painfully slow psychosis.
Allowing the shattered silence to piece together again.
Death would be a releasment, and I no longer live...