Analysis of A New Page

In the back of my mind on a black wall I am writing the chant of my bloody heart with my soul.

I am possessed as the demon continues, the dark ink of my soul begins to run dry, as my innocence fades to red.

This might be my hearts last beat before I enter the next world, as I see the old Indian chief high upon the mountain, as the tiger slips on the eagle's nest's cliff.

Now it is between my body and the image in front of me as the poisen from the scorpion lifts my soul.

Cursed inside myself, there is no way back, as my body falls to the ground, with my souls neck snapped.

I look up with no hope, prayer, or L*rd