It's an empty world for people like me,
Too tired to even breathe,
And terrified of being freed,
From the prison inside my mind.
From my heart's black hole in which I hide.
Is there treasure for me to find,
Or is it just a vortex endlessly deep?
Into it I place my hopes and my dreams,
Never to be seen again,
Sacrificed to the demons, my friends.
What do I get in return?
Just a comfortable place in which I burn.
This vortex is a dangerous place for people like me.
It sucks the life right out of my soul,
Makes me beg not to grow old.
So I jump, dive into the abyss,
Trusting that the demon, my assassin, will not miss.