• Death is a dream that cursed men wish
    Death is my home, is my happiness.
    But I am that of the damned.
    I cannot die,
    and my many dreams of that home
    are lost in my mind.

    I slit thy wrist each day i wake
    to see if death would take its place
    But that is just a waste.
    For as the liquid red spills from me.
    Death is still just a vacent memory.
    Why am i forever cursed,
    with this nightmare of life rehearsed?

    I do not wish for teenage things.
    Of stupid love songs or girly flings,
    of tears for boys and many teddybear toys.
    No, i do not wish for teenage things.
    I wish of darkness and blood
    and crazy dolls that i love.
    And the most precious thing i wish of,
    is the knowledge that death is not my dream.
    But my happiest reality.
    I am damned, but not for long.
    As death is sweet, the silver song.
    So I shall wait that day so true .
    For my home, my happiness.
    my death thank you.