Once I sat alone in a dark room,
Trying my hardest to make something good.

Nothing would flow, not a word.
Nothing to show would I have, not one work.

However, I heard a sound.
A chilling sound that I could not recount.

I looked above me and lo and behold,
An angel stood there and I was stricken with woe.

You,  he said, are not pleasing.
God, he said, you are not heeding.

Yes, I responded, I know but im ill.
He did not respond or seem to be bothered.

You have disappointed the Father, said he
And he perched himself again above me.

And then I felt something change!
Suddenly, I was less deranged so to say.

I looked to my arms and the scars I no longer hid,
But then to my horror I saw what he did.

My skin was like iron!
And my veins they were wires!

And then I shut down,
And the angel frowned.

Suddenly I awoke once more,
And saw no angel at my door.

This wasn’t totally frightening, this vision,
But I was still glad to see blood running crimson.

I wonder what this thought process was
My mind I’m sure, must be abuzz
And black.