The intake of my first oxygen wiped the dusts off my life's leaves.
I should have fought the urge to take it in, i should have resisted but i didn't.
I fell for it and now i am addicted, i wait for my redemption.
The pen bleeds as he writes on this cellulose pulp.
The Smirk on the face of my grotesque and gruesome author sends chills down my spines.
What is he up to now?
He hasn't been fair, i know this but then, i can't explain this fear.He's strong, he controls me.
My life is his and like a slave i'm forced to play along with his antics.
Will is a mirage, a facade and my only hope is in the guillotine.
I take it that i died before i ever lived and if my redemption lingers a little bit longer, i'll take the long journey back home, my destination - Death.