the birth of death

and the teardrops keep falling off of my eyes
while the sound inside my head keeps yelling and howling
and the people around me keep laughing and walking
while the stars start to unite for an explosion to happen to utterly destroy me.

the day i was born was the day i started dying,
the unforeseen disaster was already a certain catastrophe
as the skies turned black and grey and nature cried until the ears of the deaf went dull and started bleeding.

until this day i do not know why the world was so angry at me,
i was still a soul in the making and my doom was already traced
by all of the horrors of simply being alive.

there i was, helpless and miserable, disgraced and lifeless,
ready to be corrupted by all of the things that expected me to fail,
i wish i wasn't born at all, i wish i had the chance to choose,
i wish i didn't have to kill myself, i wish i could've escaped destiny without a bruise.

but all of these wishes are meaningless and ridiculous,
there's no escaping now to this heinous and beautiful death,
maybe mercy isn't gone after all, maybe i can go without hurting too much,
or maybe i just have to accept that i will die alone and in a heavily gruesome way.

why would i be destined to misery if i was just starting to live?
why did i have to be born when all i wanted to do was die?
why would someone say to me that i deserve darkness?
and why would they say that now that i am harmless?

until this day i do not know why the world was so angry at me,
perhaps it wasn't my fault and it was just meant to be,
it could be that i'm wrong and i just cannot see,
possibly i was never born and that's why i now feel free,
or maybe it's just death who's finally releasing me.

the day i was born was the day i started dying,
maybe i was born and then died without trying.