These walls they taunt
With frilly linings
They try to hide
The truthfull meaning

The walls designed
To hide the screams
But clearly hear
Them in my dreams

The air around
Reeks of death
My pain
The only pleaseant scent

I fear i'm doomed
To roam these halls
To slowly fade
Into them all

This dark depression
Somehow sweet
I choose the fate
And then repeat

becoming lost in a patchwork of words
               running between the tilting letters
          ink splashes
                       paper tears
pace quickens as i run
                  a nightmare created of something i loved
       my love screams at me
                                      where did i go wrong?
they're screaming
        but clutching their ears
                       maybe they're just in pain
   did i cause their pain?
                                 no i can't have
                                      i didn't do anything
                              did i?
countless doubts
      numberless words
                          screeched like fingernails on chalk boards
             scratching down my backbone
  ripping through my head
                      shivering or shuddering?
               it's all pain now
       but is it my pain or yours?
                           there's no border anymore
its combined
               my knuckles split
                                        in contact with the wall
    no winner
             but pain is gained

The pain they enjoy is different,
To that they inflict upon others,
This type of pain isn't physical,
But still rather horrible,
It comes from the self-loathing and hate they put themselves through,
For enjoying what it is they do,
It's their own type of masochism,
An internal form of torture,
They can't show their victims this second side,
Otherwise they won't cower in fear and hide,
Because why would anyone be scared,
Of someone who willingly shared,
The fact that they feel guilt and sadness too,
Maybe even more than you do.

You scream and shout
And curse me too
Then claim that I've
Offended you

You pray at night
And preach at day
Yet always still
Have more to say

You argue that
I Don't know Him well
And for it, you swear,
I'll burn in  hell

You say that I
Have lost my way
My heart has hardened
And my mind has strayed

You judge my clothes
My music too
And shout out: "atheist!"
When I judge you

I don't know much
But I know this
religion is peace
And this is definitely,
Not it.

What is wrong with us?
Maybe the question should be,
What is right with us?