Lust for vanishment

I fell down in the sarrow like fading leaves.
An invitation ticket to the hell was sent from Queen Darkness.
But, not my name was printed with blood as the receiver.

Dizzily tired of myself, living goes harder and futher harder.

Where's the goddess dominating my soul?
Shall I be the conques or fugitive?

No pleasure on purpose can I get from bright decoration.
"You freak!"
Yes, I have to admit it to be true.

I am nobody as there's never anybody.

What on earth can it be a magic night?
Does salvatione in the dirge or chant?
Could it be one day that depression is conjured away?

I can not say my prayers in this wishful world.
I can not even believe in myself in desperation.

It's always the fate that gose without our wishing or liking.

--
One comes from zero and finaly goes to zero.
What's the meaning of those suffering passing years?