Autenemy Testo

Sitting alone on the edge of the bed
with her brittle arms supporting her head
waiting for the day she dies
her eyes are so blank and her skin is so cold,
she'll never turn more than seven years old
already too broken down cry

who ever told you that life was fair?
who ever told you to not be scared?
who ever told you we're waiting for something more than this life?
the pistol encased in the palm of his hand,
he's riddled with thoughts we will not understand
thoughts too disturbed to subside
the grey taste of metal, the twitch of a limb,
falls back on the bed as the lights start to dim
the bitter assuagement of suicide

who ever said you could bear this life?
who ever promised that you'd survive?
who ever said we are destined to follow through with this life?

is there a brighter day when the clouds will fade?
is there a garden state behind some pearly gates?
or is it up to us to make the best of life,
roll with the punches and keep our loved ones by our side?