The air is dense on this cold September night,
And the clouds make the sky look like a sheet,
Keeping me locked out of heaven,
And ever more closer to hell,
The sun might have left for the day,
But the ground still feels warm,
Heated with the flames of the underworld,
And it's ascending higher with every breath I take,
I can almost feel myself slipping away,
Into the fires of my own destined perpetual decay,
But for now I exist in the purgatory,
Between heaven and hell.
