I walk with the dead,

Yet I am amongst the living,

Immersing great hatred of evil,

For the one who drank,

The life in my heart.

 

 I blame my father,

Because of his thrash beatings,

Yet I am the asshole,

Not him within me.

 

I do not have feelings,

I do not know what love is,

But this tear I shed,

Is but a drop of life,

That I shall try to catch.

 

I am no vampire,

But I do hunger the death,

Which just can not be feed.

 

I can not answer my questions,

But maybe you can,

With this darken shallow cloud,

And death on the shoulders,

Make me come alive,

Within your own heart.

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