The Windows to the Soul

A life of improbable existence
An opportunity without a possibility

Death, an awful truth and kindest certainty
I feel her stale breath as she's killing me

Smile for the day, the mutual bliss
Her rotting silhouette, wet with our filthy kiss

Desperate for death, the remote prospect of another breath
After the silence persues, a hope that something is left

Smashed, The Windows to the Soul
A terrible obstacle, to a wishful goal

Eternal night, lacking both darkness and light
Hell bound to heaven, as the eyes to their sight

Alone, one final desperate time
Executed criminals, our births our absolute crime

Heaven or hell, far too late to tell
Punishment or reward, oh well...