Here I lie, dead as dead could be.

Silence hurts me as these creepy voices talk to me.

Oh, they whisper sweet lies and bitter truths.

Days end when the sun dies, yet I live.

So I roll the dice, and snake eyes stare back at me.

I wish to live on or near Mount Olympus.

Like Icarus, it seems, my wings of feathers and wax melted.

Yet these broken wings of mine hold me close like an ever-closing boa constrictor.

Here I lie, dead as dead could be.

Oh, sweet mother of time.

Here, I lie slowly.

Here, I lie dead.

Here, I lie love, yet not felt.

Stolen novel; please report.

Here, I lie with little vision of my future.

Here, I lie with the vision of the past.

Always had hopes.

So here I lie on an island of mine.

Here, I lie alone, with no fault but my own.

Here, I lie, a balloon ready to burst.

Here, I lie, ready to let go.

But letting go isn't as dead as dead could be.

Here, I lie upside down.

Oh, sweet mother of time.

Here, I lie in shambles, like melted metal.

Here, I lie wishing for the sweeper of time to take me.

Here, I lie with only hopes of a child, yet I know the truth.

Here, I lie dead as dead could be, with only hope.