VINCENT

Circles and circles, a prison all the like;
No light nor day, but only gloomy clouds and night.
To see no future, but to stay all the like;
Life is a pointless battle against what is truly right.

Day after day, an infinite pattern of life;
Each second that passes by, is one closer to death.
We walk the world to only die, and achieve nothing in life.
All we do is nothing, but to walk an endless path towards death.

A world without life is one without death.
No mourning or suffering is a wondrous sight.
Endless circles are our lives and deaths;
Our deaths are what are truly right.

Chaos and destruction are our friends, and God our foe.
And we are all frightened doe.
Life is nothing, but only ends in death;
This is my wish upon my death.