Rubbing my eyes are the cold hands of death
I see nothing, but nothing, but nothing
in the air lingers the stench of its breath
I reach out with my heart to feel something
I can feel it coming, gripping my spine
and I shudder, only to break inside
I unwillingly cross the stubborn line
an unknown world on the line's purpose side
I fight my death with words full of meaning
but in the end the composer is gone
I see no light, hear no church bells ringing
just selfish death sing its poison-laced song
It sings with passion, with human violence
Death's most cruel song is nothing but silence.