What comes in the midnight hour calling me across the lake?
An ethereal siren song of a maiden from another shore.
A song that makes my heart quiver with the thought that im very far from home.

The fire in my mind spreads like a disease to every sense,
light is darkened, sound is muted, taste is rotten, smell is of gasoline and rotting corpses.

What aches is not only that my own heart is empty, but rather
That all the hearts mine call out to are equally broken, and empty.

I've nothing left to offer this world, for this world has already broken me,
beaten me, and left me without a soul, or even a sense of home.

I feel I no longer belong on this shore. Like a man out of time.
All that's left is my silhouette. A burnt out husk.

In a perfect world, we would live in unity. There would be perfect sanity
enough that our minds could fully receive each other
and share our ourselves, share our love, share our knowledge, wisdom and our pains,
without ever harming another, nor ourselves.

We would no longer need words, because our hearts would be one.
We would be united, no longer in selfishness, and greed, but in joy and love and kindness.

I don't belong here anymore, because I'm incapable of living in such a world.
Yet it's all I want, and the furthest from what I am.

I am a monster.