Coma Joy

Whoever said being in a coma was a bad thing? Where does put them out their misery come from?

Standing alone in a crowded room

No one knowing solitude

Crowded conversation makes him tire

Standing within a ring of fire

Drifting upon a purple haze

On an ice flow of personal faze

Out of body experience lies

His passive face of hypnotize

One soul person need not nurture

Not a part of physical torture

Always being of pure soul

To himself the thoughts unfold

Does not care for colour red

His own spectrum in the head

Treated by material w****s

Cannot get in he locks the doors

They say he owns nothing but pain no life

He knows not worry can't see the knife

Mind colourant of LSD

There is no phyical want or need

As he drifts on the neural cloud

Once more protected by innocence shroud

They say that all he wants to die

He does not talk to ask them why

They send cold knife to death deploy

Ending sweet white coma joy