Corrupted

The night is dark,

The moon is gone,

At these nights,

I like to Go out alone.

I walk down the park,

With still a little bit of hope,

Then I sit on the bench

And open my envelope.

By envelope I mean,

The shell of my soul,

My heart, It is,

At least what it used to be,

My soul is different,

And the shell for it too,

I'm not I anymore...

I'm Just a body,

With degenerated mind

Destroyed heart

And With head kind of heavy,

Of all this years,

Without a love,

Year by year,

All goddamn life!

I'm not the right person,

For this kind of things,

I'm not the right person

For whatever the f*ck is this!

I quit!

He, the corrupted person, at least what others think, ended his life. But the question is, was he really corrupted inside or it's the world in which he lived corrupted as well?...