• Death is pure, a pleasure at most, my hope fades, blue to green then black, no ones ever had my back, i have a million things to say, but half i must choke back, i hold back on how i feel, trying with difficulty to make these emotions surreal, for i know they will not appeal to your senses, i must have a trillion fences, or maybe more, just so i don't have to open the door of my mind, and tell people what i want from life, although most of the time, i don't even know what i long for, it changes quite often, from pleasure to agony, hope to bruises, love to scars, i have gone too far, said too much, i have to close the door, and say goodbye to the lust, although lust is a must for many souls, it is one i am not capable of finding, those who ask of me what is wrong, i tell them i am not strong, so i believe it and soon it's true, a truce, unbreakable for any normal humans fists, so I'm shutting the door to heaven, being led to hell, since thats where i belong, now i know, death is not wrong. This death is R.E.A.L.