Death lives in the dark corners of my soul -
Lulled to sleep with her songs; I find I'm consoled.

A conglomeration of thought eventually collide.
A collision of conflict will be my demise.

I walk through the halls of a stranger's home;
I peer out the windows to a land I don't know.

A little girl stands there - tattered and broken.
She wears the face of a tired old woman.

Live empty carcasses press in on all sides.
Like cannibals they try to eat me alive.

In torment I dance between fantasy and reality
Hazy memories responsible for a fragmented personality.

The little girl runs past me - a ****** sacrifice.
At the hand of her abuser, innocence lost her life.

Sun breaks through the dark visions of night.
Plastic smiles contain all indications of fright.

I see her lying there in a casket of dreams.
A sense of anxious silence careens

Towards the house of denial and an emotionless life,
Survival depends on avoiding the plight

Of repeat behavior - of life being expressed ...
So I open my soul to the solace of death.

She lulls me to sleep with her songs of the night.
This stranger's home seems to fit me just right.