Always wishing for death\'s embrace,
My mind a prison, my soul unrest.
To rise from bed too much a strain,
When I would rather stay at rest.
No joy in life, I yearn for death,
A gun against my head, a knife to my chest.
Voices in my mind, a constant curse,
Their whispers haunt me, always first.
I love you, they all said, like a sweet lie,
Until they heard my secrets, held so close.
To love me now, they\'d fear what I\'d do,
For I\'m a prisoner, my love a hostage too