Sweet Dreams Are Made Of Death

And sometimes I wish it all ended

On a more sweeter note

No later but sooner,

Like a halt to my agonies and anxieties.

Like an end of a drama

But here the artist is fed up of pretending

The will to move on and happy endings

It sounds like lies and terrible miseries.

And then sometimes I wish I could

Cover up my pain in words

But damn those words

Because they hurt even worse.

So I end up living, thinking

I’m not worth it, with people

Around pushing and neglecting.

Hey, I talked about it.

Trust me, no one ever heard!

So I ended it and it was sweet

At least for me.!