I have drowned in the murk,

Hopeless and bling to scream for help,

Perhaps I might not have a choice but to live in bleak

Because maybe all along it was a just an atrocious trap. 

Like a bird imprisoned in a cage, it inveigled up my dreams.

Can I ever breathe freedom?

The answer always stays as a hushed whiper.

But if I stay in such desolation,

I won't argue to let me free.

I may have sinned a sort of monstrosity.

Why else wouldn't I be in glee?

I shall welcome death in open arms,

for I hope eternity grants me to an endless, blissful dream.