Ink & words

What if I… what if I die tomorrow?


To be honest, who cares?

I don't even get scared about death;

death is peace and silence, maybe sorrow

for the ones I've left behind, yet

If I had got everything I wanted and coloured

all of my nears' faces with smiles first,

what would be the problem then?


Bullet in my gun,

pull the trigger and I'm done.

Blood and tears around the crack.

I got no more time.


Wait, what the hell?!

What's going on up there.

Shut up you crazy mind,

we're fine, don't make drama and faints,

we're going nowhere.


Problems on the inside,

if we die, we die like men:

hell in our head,

demons in our eyes

and fear in our veins.


Not a single droplet of blood

is going to be dropped

if we don't physically fight our prison guard

and got cut by his sword.


Bullet in his gun,

He pulled the trigger but missed the shot.

Ink and words flooding my world,

though I have never found the right ones,

at least until now that I shut my whole world off.

 

death is the wages of our sins...
ink on the skin... nice tattoo