I had no idea of what to do, still stuck in this hollowed grave, as this phase of my life deepens like a black hole, (Thus goes my depressed lines).

With the colors still blurred out, I am lost deep within the forest of my delusioned mind, (Thus goes my depressed lines).

The nose bleed, my phantom of a hurting reality, as the questions keeps floating like a frail mud, "why is it so dark in here?, "why does it feel like I'm drowned?", "why does this pictures keeps sliding on replay?", (Thus goes my depressed lines).

Still so torn by fate's virus, I dose my soul with life's fatal songs, just a stereotype stalker with no prey, (Thus goes my depressed lines).
...