full of anger and immune to pain i have lost grasp of what is sain I am no more then an ignorant prick with nothing left not even a wish, except for the enchanting bliss that follows sweet death's defiling kiss the gun in my mouth to asure i shall not miss. I falter and never succeed try to heal the wounds but they countinue to bleed so dear life i do conceed bow down and take a knee for you trully have taken a hold of me