I actually have forgotten the day,
When I started to take up my pen,
and scribbled down all those lines.
But I do know,
Whenever I did write,
I wrote it, with my own possess heart, as paper,
gushes of blood, in my jugular vein, as ink,
and a drop or two of tears, as emotion.
The inspiration, you asked me?
As plain and dim-witted as it might sound,
Yeah, it’s you.
It’s always been about you.
It's always gonna be about you, dear.
It always has, and it always be.
As insanity raging up from a mad soul,
These sorrows haunted me,
And the emptiness might even tore me apart,
Yet, I kept on survived,
only by remembering you.
Now, as the curtain falls,
I will get through this.
And I promise,
I will survive this, or another so-called hell,
P/s : need to find my solitude and my comforting sounds, so i will be going on a long hiatus. Cheers and take care, mate!