Meaning Lies Between the Lines (But Never Tells the Truth)

there are memories of old women being young and there are memories of old men being hung the noose was tied too tightly for the memories shall be remembered no more murdering the infants, and slaughtering the hearts of a million unborn babies or "embryotic parts" life is death, and dying is living but in the end we all end up crying and forgiving forgiving all the ones who do the right things morally we send them suicide notes, but write them formally dear to whom it may concern, i never kissed the razors edge and never hung from an old oak tree never did i swallow poison and never did you talk to me never did i dream that this is how'd it end but then again i never thought that dying was a trend i will join the congregation of suicidal brethern and i will push this kriss i will push it further in for my heart can bleed no more when it fills all of your cups and now i leave you with this: DEFICIO VIVO EST VICTUS MORIOR sincerly, I