Ill-Life

Boredom breeds my despair, lovely stench in the air
Awfully dismal may be one's own removal
Yearning for a change, my suicide's engaged
The trigger awaits, I am its fool human bait

Pull! It's already too late, hold! Ill lives still wait
Breathless, motionless, I'm left with nothing, alone
Bitterness, sadness, nothing else but this bullet
Pull! One more statistic, encourage death's addicts

Frozen in my feelings, only my passion's killed
By millions of minions roaming inside my mind
Vile voices of vermin eviscerates my will
I'm the parasite of life, she's making me ill

Life's held by my finger, pull the fucking trigger!
No way! No way out! I cry out, blank out... die out!
I glimpse at my anger, yet I knew my failure
The curtain is drawn just for me to be brought down!