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when I see every trace of mine

I see the biggest fear

a darkness where no love dwells

out loud I hear the silhouette

Wicked shade of me

has my voice and my eyes

but not my soul

not even death will change that

Weak and broken, weeping and harmed

I behold my sorrow personified

its shape, the same in the mirror

where I will descend, forever

The weak points are there

but attacking them will cause a war

a battle of self

Where I’ll be defeated, forever

Wicked shade of me

has my voice and my eyes

but not my soul

not even death will change that

Into an endless fall

twisted and dark

fighting myself uselessly

like a hell punishment