Title: Terminal Depression

Everyday I walk away to find a place so far away
Backwards inside my mind.
Throughout future, invert time.

A little voice inside my head
calls to me and tells I'm dead.
I think I'm lonely I think I'd cry,
but my decay has dried my eyes.

I look into a looking glass, 
and wonder how long I've pasted.
I'm void of time and space, 
features melted from face.

And this is not me.
Give back my reality.
I put a gun to my head I fired once and I'm dead.

A day goes by without my soul.
And I am damp and I am cold.
The rain above is splashing down, 
and I am wet below the ground.

I can't see light hit my face
I'm in a dark forbidding place
where worms and lice will pick away
more parts of me by the day.

The bullet still stuck in me
has destroyed me most totally.
And now I wish I had thought twice
about wasting my own life.