There's a line somewhere
and it's elusively hard to find
Between right and wrong
What happens when dragons shape-shift to demons?
There's a side to the line in which they then fall

This is a role reversal
In which the optimist becomes the realist
A balancing act of true natures

And nature is something the boy in my head does not have
He is the soul-less, the Trickster
Death himself
He deals in misery, control and steals it all back
Some things that happen in your head should never find their way to life

I will not let him,
through whispered words and backroom dealings,
convince you to hold his place
A soul for the soulless is not a fair trade

I'd much rather have you here than he
You are not a monster
No matter what you've done
You are the hurt, the happy, the right, the wrong
You are alive

Never trade that for something you were promised in a dream