Exacerbation of a dying persona.

the piano of life plays the last melody,
the chorus is excited,
exacerbated claims,
supressed screams,
repressed memories,
they all make their last appereance.
While you are in the air waiting to hit the ground or water,
your life will make sense,
the price of knowledge is,
nothing but life itself.

The death can happen to your body, your soul, or both, it doesn't matter in which order, but you will always die.

As the bell rings,
as the maiden falls down the abyss,
the shattered self battles.
You, I and he.
Who shall remain?
That which is you, is also me, they are all he.
Thou you is he, I art he.

Cut, slash, bleed,
unavoidable race to live,
unspeakable void-full life.
Empty passion that inhabits living beings,
that which moves them towards empty things,
that is, of course, the Void.That which cannot be conceived but it can be named.