To the voices...

The gateway is this trigger I hold, my shoulders crumble on this stage,
You pierced my poetic page, you stopped me feeling from this heartache,
The cracks in the mirror showed signs that it was a different face,
My eyes told a story without a happy ending, so now I end my days.

To the voices,
Is the time right?
A lonely suicide?
Is this a weakness?
Is the time mine?
To my mental illness,
To my mental illness.

Is there room for me to walk this life and feel a brand new me, 
Do I hold on, change the way I breathe and start living my dreams,
I've stepped in the shadows and found peace in the dark,
I'm not following the devil but living in sin is so damn hard.

Scratching, serpents under my skin, is dying this way strength?
Crying, addiction in my veins, so cold broken and undressed,
Rattled, shackled thoughts within, why on earth this emotion?!
Numbness, emptiness in my grin, blinded by my own vision. 

To the voices,
Is the time right?
A lonely suicide?
Is this a weakness?
Is the time mine?
To my mental illness,
To my mental illness.

Beneath my feet, wooden roots hold me still,
From this day forward I promise myself I won't kill,
The needle of pearl white satin, will ride the goosebumps of somebody else,
For I know I'm not a friend to the devil and in no way I'm going to be welcomed to hell.

To the voices,
To my mental illness,
As long as I have breath,
My mind will always have strength...