Colder کے بول

drained and weak I lay to rest these years have not been fine to mee empty rooms and echoing halls withering fingers clawing on the walls colder this place is slowly turning colder smoulder from ash to dust, nothing more no forgiveness can reach me now I am beyond this world somehow in the room of waiting and no return that place where forever is set to burn breathing only as an act of spite fighting off that final wall of sleep colder this place is slowly turning colder smoulder from ash to dust, nothing more