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When colors blur to black and life is gone
Does a new world come with a new song?
As red splatters on the floor from a newly opened wound
Is this the last or will more come soon?
A twisted way to look at reality.
Or what is here and will be.

No more red, only white and black.
Sometimes I dream of going back.
To who I was and what I did there
Thinking that there was not a care.
Just push it out through the lines and past the red
Hoping one day to soon be dead.
Poetry comes while you are asleep
Some so horrid you just wish to weep.

Colors fade in and out
Through the psychotic inner bout.
Try to keep my head surfaced not to blur
But sometimes I'm not all that sure
Of what to do and how to live
And then to keep fight or just give
Under the pile of stress and sorrow.
As if there would be no tomorrow.
And once again I live another day
If not for me then for those who stay