Keep the Faith
Your Angels
As the dim candlelight flickered in the dark, enclosed room, a crystalline tear glided down his cheek and found its way to his pale lips; burning an open crack that rested upon them. His glassy, bloodshot eyes stung when more tears began to line his eyes as he looked into the cracked mirror to be greeted by the monstrosity he was accused of being. He reached out to the glass to trace the faults with his quivering fingers, but quickly restricted his hand back when he received a small cut.
Shards rested in the bowl of the sink and dry blood stained the porcelain; the same blood that trickled out of his knuckles after striking the mirror and turning it to the remains it is now. The remains reminded him too much of his own soul – the soul that the demons had corroded.
The demons were the ones that had burned the smile right off of his own lips; they were the reason why he very seldom wore a grin. They had thrown him in the black, abyss and tortured him until his throat was raw from yelling and his eyes stung from crying. He was put in misery because of them, and what did he do to deserve it?
Nothing.
While his internal self was being decayed, his outside was being whisked away slowly. Silent laughter and smug looks were staining fresh tear streaks down his cheeks and his usual hazel eyes had dulled to a light brown. These once-loyal fans were turning into the source of all the mental punishment – they provoked the demons that attacked him.
However, the most loyal fans – the angels – were his stability or support beams when he absolutely needed it.
Only the remainder of the angels could mend his putrefied soul and heart. They would repair the once broken smile into its original, crooked grin – they could make him feel human again and not a ragged doll that was worn out after one play. The angels would do anything to extend their hand out to help catch him when he falls. He was their hero, their idol, their savior...
And would you stay right here?
When I tell you,
That someone out there loves you.
Would you stay right here?
Well, I'd tell you,
That someone out there loves you after all.
Shards rested in the bowl of the sink and dry blood stained the porcelain; the same blood that trickled out of his knuckles after striking the mirror and turning it to the remains it is now. The remains reminded him too much of his own soul – the soul that the demons had corroded.
The demons were the ones that had burned the smile right off of his own lips; they were the reason why he very seldom wore a grin. They had thrown him in the black, abyss and tortured him until his throat was raw from yelling and his eyes stung from crying. He was put in misery because of them, and what did he do to deserve it?
Nothing.
While his internal self was being decayed, his outside was being whisked away slowly. Silent laughter and smug looks were staining fresh tear streaks down his cheeks and his usual hazel eyes had dulled to a light brown. These once-loyal fans were turning into the source of all the mental punishment – they provoked the demons that attacked him.
However, the most loyal fans – the angels – were his stability or support beams when he absolutely needed it.
Only the remainder of the angels could mend his putrefied soul and heart. They would repair the once broken smile into its original, crooked grin – they could make him feel human again and not a ragged doll that was worn out after one play. The angels would do anything to extend their hand out to help catch him when he falls. He was their hero, their idol, their savior...
And would you stay right here?
When I tell you,
That someone out there loves you.
Would you stay right here?
Well, I'd tell you,
That someone out there loves you after all.