There's a cold dark corner
in the back of my room,
it speaks to me
and says I'm coming for you
As I lie on my bed
in the fetal postion,
my eyes are closed
hoping and wishing.
Maybe that one day
my dreams will come true,
that I dont have to be here
so down and blue.
The corner keeps talking
about how I'm going to die,
all I can do
is lie there and cry.
As the corner gets closer
and takes me in,
my soul starts to burn
as so does my skin.
My bones shall lie there
turning to dust,
my bed surrounding,
nothing but rust.
