Your words lack meaning when backed by lies.
They pour out your mouth but drip through your eyes.
They fall like rain, the forecast reads pain.
But you must let them out to keep yourself sane.

They echo and haunt your every single thought.
A salvation you wish that you simply just bought.
Your soul up for bid, but who do we kid?
Its value diminished by the truth that you hid.

The list of your sins would make Satan blush.
Your hell is the product of dreams that you crush.
A spectator sport, with no need for support.
You glow in the spotlight cast down on the court.

Nothing remains as you receive your fate.
The harshest reality for all of your hate.
Condemned to the fact that you made a pact,
Your soul was the fee for the devil to attract.