Spare me the horror of another failure when all hope is lost, it hurts even a heart made of rock when it knows it’s actual cost.
Holy spirts kill the burden upon my shoulders so I can spread the wings, I’m tired of breathing so I pray for the golden ring.
The suttle noise the cracks in my voice, speaking for themselves selfish as always. If I were to wish I would wish for a choice, the choice to quit and leave this life the maze.
Hell bent I have been in the pirsuit of what cannot be found, waiting for a killer, demon or a hell hound.
So feed my body to mother nature and set me free, at least my dead corpse will help grow a tree.
The limbs I have been given by the mighty lord, what use have I of them when I cannot even cut the cord of my own karma, my wrong doings and my flaws.
I try to be good living by the laws but all I get in return is a handful of excuses, there is nothing offered to me other than gentle abuses, scientists talk about eddisson’s 999 tires, but none mention the pain of each failure and those 999 cries.