my tears are damnedmy day was abysmal and so is my life i'm so caught up like a dumb housewifemy tears are damned
a slave to my master a slave to my peers a slave to my shame a slave to my fears
nothing is right everything is wrong how can a person not cry for so long?
the pain is there somewhere down deep i want to cry out but don't make a peep
the razor taunts me it shows me its face it promises me comfort it shows me my place
it slides across my skin giving what it said my troubles wash away in a river of r
the wastelandMy hope is all gone my life is a sham I'm stumbling through life without any planthe wasteland
the body is here the spirit is gone my mind is dark the light's never on
why am I here? why bother cry? i'm so lost and don't ask why.
there's no hope i can't help but succumb to the feelings I feel and the heart that is numb
the day never gets better the sun never shines people are happy the joy's never mine
why are they so lucky and I so damned? they get the world I just get slammed &
the holeI can't crawl out of this hole my subconcious has dug It traps me in this war zone as my emotions run deep they battle each other to see who's on top and for some reason, despair always holds out.the hole
don't think I haven't tried to escape this dark pit. the scratches made by my nails, complemented with my blood, are a testament to that fact. please don't think I'm weak. i couldn't handle that.
i've tried more than anyone has to escape my prison of depression, but i'm shackled to the bottom, a bottom that can't be found. the vo
Seeing Through TearsI'm seeing through tears,Seeing Through Tears
as I walk down the hall.
Her suicide meant nothing,
a mere answer to their call.
They were the ones who called her,
call her well they did.
Taunting and threatening her,
she merely did their bid.
I walk down the hall,
all alone now.
Nobody seems to notice,
and my head strts to bow .
I neat the end of the hall. I end the near of the years.
I pull the gun out of my pocket,
and I'm seeing through tears.
I shoot them all down,
every single one.
never again will they murde
um
enjoy your stay at deviantart and if our paths ever cross again.
tell me to eat a dick.
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>reality is the outcome of desire, imagination and dreams.
creative in a kind of "im bored and no other website will let me put pictures of myself on it and chat shit about how great i think i am cos if i dont think i am noone else will" kind of way.
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>reality is the outcome of desire, imagination and dreams.
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i got nothing AND everything
As for the issues you address in your defense of the deviant homepage in question...
one of the often positive natures of deviant art its its ability of directing the user to a random page, and if you dont like the fact that i too am able to contribute my own comments, response and opinions then, to adopt a language that you might feel more accustomed to (english for "used to") go fuck yourself.
After looking at your page, deviations and appearance it is clear that you would probably consider yourself as part of a deviation to mainstrem society, which in its nature accepts its entity as rebelious.
so its actually ironic that you dont support me for having opinions of my own that do not agree with the majority.
--
>reality is the outcome of desire, imagination and dreams.
ps. fuck you
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i got nothing AND everything
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>reality is the outcome of desire, imagination and dreams.
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I will take enlightenment, even at the cost of pure and utter misery.
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