I dare not to unveil the sins to the world that are buried deep within me.
Standing beneath the falling leaves, I often ask myself: Who, in truth, am I?
On certain days, I discover strange solace within my intricate illusions,
Where I wield the spectre’s blade, tormenting those who’ve wounded my soul.
An eerie smile dances upon my visage as I behold their blood upon my hands.
Fear constricts my very bones as the darkness within me stretches far and wide,
Whilst I am still oblivious to the hour and place where it will finally end.
Sanity bade me its final goodbye when I bled and was abandoned to a merciless death.
My world is now confined to black and white, for all the colours have washed out of my eyes.
To the heavens, I beseech for freedom’s grace,
Yet, how can I trade my soul for such release, when its essence holds no worth?
There was a time when I stood as a valiant warrior, bold and proud.
But now, I fear, I have taken on the character of a villain within my own tale.
My innocence is now shrouded in the murky attire of vengeance and jealousy.
The colour of my heart has darkened and is now a shade of midnight,
I can witness monstrous entities breaching the gates of my world,
So with their sinister alliance, I am sculpting my world into my own private hell.