The Shame and the Spectre

In my last days, I feel the sense of life.
Although I would reach remorse.
I'm sure, I could not ever see the lost.
Only writing these few words.
I think my soul would flow as yours.
The rain never felt as dense and warm.
To make me decide to leave this world.
So anguished but cold, I hear at last her voice.
So help me disappear, from this deep senseless hole.

Whitish forms, appearing across the clock.
Beyond the rooms I found as safety folds.
Shikly sytaigh the steps to upper floors.
Deep inside my murders knock so loud.
The suicide of those I meet and loved.
At least I start the eerie path of blood.

The spectre rise my shame.
As moving old pictures of death.
Myself grey landscape fell.
As soon as beauty was slain.
By greed, by pain... With chains.
I descend... Again !!!!

In a comfortable darkness.
The whitish breath of end.
Make it sure to kill myself.
It seems to be so far when I forgot.
The hours I stand apart of those.
By greed !!! By pain !!!
I descend... Again !!!!