| Sweet sins scars my horizon. | |
| Got nothing to expect in this emotional unstable time. | |
| Looking forward there is a meanningless life to go. | |
| Path of sorrow! | |
| Age of decay! | |
| Pictures of wrong decisions veils my sleep but the lines are drawns. | |
| Nothing could release me. | |
| Am I born to excuse my way of thinking? | |
| Am I force to justifiy who | |
| I am? Death. | |
| Sweet death could be a mercyful fate. | |
| Delivered of despair. | |
| New kind of freedom. | |
| A new kind of face. |
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