In the crevasses of my mind,
There lies a land of grey,
In the world of my thoughts,
The darkness glides, as serpent for prey.

Across these lands of grey and sorrow,
Memories lie as wilted flowers.
Across the hills of long lost happiness,
The cold grows old from endless showers.

Amid the memories wilted so,
We see past times hunched in a corner,
Amid the times, never fogotten,
The flow of blood is still not over.

Past times, oh how they haunt me so,
Their whispers wake my dreams
Past times, they live inside my soul,
Might they end, oh how it seems.

Whispers of dreams, realities past,
For in the crevasses of my mind,
Soft spoken lies, all hopes are shattered,
My dark past, can never be left behind.