Here I am, sitting in the corner of my room,  
A place that’s slowly becoming my tomb.  
Dark but cozy, similar to a womb,  
No sign of light; it feels like my gloom.  
Thoughts consume me, no sign of bloom,  
Losing my horizon—could this be my doom?

Laughter Is gone, like a heart,
The echoes are fading, like love.
White dove turns to black dove,
Not a sign coming from above.

A hole in my heart was shoved,
Stopped bleeding, no need for gloves.
Spending years with drowned doves,
Engulfed by darkness, void devours.

I'm the bat of my thoughts,
bruised but man, a Camazotz.
So I embrace my darkness until sunrise,
My thoughts cascade like rain,
I watch them sometimes.
I fight like a knight just to save it all,
In the end, it all collapses when I rhyme.

So I remain in my tomb,  
Searching for a horizon beyond my doom.  
The other side can’t bring gloom;  
I believe there, I will find bloom.