My eyes, blur the funereal images,
for these tears flowing,
like rivers in my face,
rivers that shall never see the sea.

Mourning existence, shall I bear,
for my own death, my funeral,
this, attended just for the maggots,
feasting on my reeking flesh.

and I cry...

My death, like my life, means nothing
but the funeral rites, shall be carried on,
for my soul to finally find rest,
for my soul to finally dream forever.

So now clad in black,
I dwell the haunted corridors,
holding the memories hiden in those shades,
for I am the only witness, of this pain.

The tears flow, as I realize,
there are no memories to keep, for I never lived,
I existed, as a broken husk,
and the veil goes down, to cover my face,

With Bitter tears...

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