‚’I Think im not real, i dont exist
I am creation of thoughts
Its not like this that thought is born withing me
Its the though that creates myslef
and makes illsions of being’’

…And again i wake up
In this surrealistic world
The light from window is blinding me
Is it the sun that burns out my soul?
My bed is filled with blood
The eerie sound of torture
Is coming from the distance

Maybe im lost
Maybe your suffering
Pleases my eyes
Pity you wont die
Your blood is on my hands
But you dont know
Your life is ending
You are not real…

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