The Darkness

I walk around with a heart that’s permanently shattered, completely scarred, about to be lost,
I say what I think, but not what I feel, I destroy what makes me reminisce, I will not remember,
Sometimes I lay in my bed, and feel distraught, no one to rescue me, barely able to cope.
Longing for the kiss of my lover to make me temporarily forget what makes me cry at night,
To escape for a few precious moments, to feel love, to end the fight, for I am about to give way,

I wonder if I’m going make it, is it really worth it to stay?

I am tired, stretched to capacity, no more tenacity, no more spiritual sublime, only pain,
If death be a gateway then my dear, show me the way, we’ll escape today, goodbye world,
Break the shackles of pain from my feet, extricate me from the fetters which keep me down,
The demons are calling, I hear them laughing, kicking me when I’m down, it’s a sick sound,
Run away from all my pain, but I cannot escape, locked away there I will stay,

Wake me up when the world ends.

I sit on my bed in a trance, the darkest sublime of soul, it never gets old, it’s new every time,
I write morbid poetry in ecstasy, fixed in a trance, metal music, working away,
Kiss my love’s lips, throw my pious purity away, I’m in a sadistic mood today,
I’m not emo, I never have been, but upon a path of dark dreary things I will begin,
It’s the path I’ve chosen:

Now I determine the way.

I flew on a flight of rage, penning perverted pages, and cynical elegies, no petty limericks for me
Look below as the city burns, see the smoke rise, my morbid pen writes your demise,
I write to you, to the ones I despise, whom I shall destroy, put asunder, make them wonder,
Look at their stunned faces, when they see me coming, rising from the flames, a phoenix of death
Renewed from depression, to anger repression, now pagans leave blatant sinful impressions.

Watch me change from who I was.

I lay in my bed, stone cold, heart beating, in hibernation of soul. I lost myself today,
I have no life, no control. I gave what I could, more than I should, and for a moment I stood.
But then I crashed back down, falling onto the ground, my heart making a quiet shattering sound.
I stay in my bed, you could mistake me dead, the only life signs are far behind.
But if my demented phantasmagoric dreams are true:

Avenged seven-fold I shall be.

I lie a corpse, a dead man in an emotionless black parade, too late to help, too late to save.
Watch me rot, from inside out, the stench of moral decay, dying the pagan way,
Incited by love deficiency, no one to depend upon, self sufficient to my long lost grave,
Diagnosed with independent morality, death by choice, death by my own device.
A crucifix around my neck, a lovely lost cause on my mind, and a stake in my heart:

What a way to go, never a victory, never a loss, never a start.