9 August 2012
You lie there hopelessly on the ground, You howl for help like a hound. So weak, so helpless, Feeling really friendless.
The people you called your friends, Laughing at you, Kicking you, Killing your soul with you. Hope to have ever lived.
You crumble close, After falling down, Hitting the hard surface of the ground.
Don't make a noise, Don't upset them, Don't let them kill your soul. You pretty, little soul...
Bad Time • Opuss № I