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It's dark and lonely. It's always dark and lonely and no cares.
He doesn't care either, he just comes because he can't forget, he'll never forget. It's imprinted in his brain and he can't do anything about it.

He bends and he breaks
If you give they will take away
His passion, his pain, his grace.

He stares up at the door just like always. It's almost like it's mocking him. Forcing, degrading, he lifelessly opens the door to the rooms beyond.

He exhales,
A thousand black flowers explode
into butterflies as they're away

He watches his breath as it slowly disappears. The butterfly flies off and he screams. He's been left nothing