The weight of symbolic actions stabs my lungs crushing my heart I watch the ceiling as if watching my feelings I know i should not speak but my desire covers the voice of my thought I am motivated by the rhythm of insanity I try to watch around me with the rope tied around my hands The noise of the clock awakes me Four hours and forty eight minutes of a day i shall never see The rope that before trembled with my hands now chokes me in my final Redemption The last thoughts rush into my head And before closing my eyes for the last time i realize: "no one came In time. maybe there was no one."Página 1 / 1