As I look over my shoulder,
I see my painful past roll by.
I've lived life at its ugliest phases,
I don't know how much more I can take.
Miseries in the past haunt my dreams,
memories of fear and pain crawl through my soul.
I am a tortured soul surviving on the edge,
doing all I can to survive one more day.
Sheltering on the string of death,
right above the helicious dome of Satan.
If I could have one last wish,
it would be to wash away my past.
In my sweet dreams, I dream of heaven on earth,
willing to sacrifice anything to make it reality.
I find a reason to live and survive.
The clock is ticking faster and faster,
my hope is sinking lower and lower.
Thinking of my last words before I am dethrones,
I see life as a house of pain and torture.