A ghost of who I was,
now I roam around.
Questioning my existence
and the whispers in my head.
With every passing second
I feel less control.
Am losing myself now
somebody take me home.
I don't know what i did,
but all i see is red.
All those whispers I heard
are slowly fading out.
A ghost is all I am now,
a beautiful display
of hatred, pain, and guilt
on a roadway to hell.
feel free to give criticism