Keep On Rotting In The Free World

Of all the might I see in myself
Nothing stands out but a small fear
That mocks me every morning
And with it's wicked face
It is pointing at my wretchedness

Perished weeds to my feet
Nothing but a grace that vanished
Pouring hate within my veins
That would unleash in a glance
By the ecstasy of grief

Driven by forces unrestrained
I slaughter your hopes and dreams
Crushed to ashes day by day
Terrorized by my own will
I shall fulfill this prophecy