Is there anything left to remember?
Is there anyone else to answer my call?
In a world of emptiness and misery
All that greets me is my defunct mind.
I cannot run,
Nor can I hide
When the demons from which I must escape
Are waiting for me inside.
And therein is the dilemma;
What is truly the lesser of the two evils?
Booming malevolence?
Or deafening silence?
I only wish for a middle ground.
Maybe there could be in a perfect world.
But that is where reality ends
And my idealism begins.
Because this is not a perfect world.
This is the fractured reality
That is my personal Hell.