O’ gracious mind, that stores the monster within,
The ill of soul feels that in life one can’t win,
O’ beaten heart, that does not tell praise from sin,
The lord would not have placed ‘insane’ in such men.

Thy inner head does burn with this gift inside of me,
The mental suffocation does help me feel so high,
They call me crazy?! Oh they know not what sets me free,
Its belief we grow to live, sadly we grow to die.

The sounds become outstanding, bringing leaks unto these ears.
The ink becomes overwhelming, hovering off the page.
The people become too much, making life a last resort.
And fire in my skull burns bright! I can’t stand this anymore!

Silence,
The lack of fight.
Peace,
The dim of light:

For I love all insanity that comes my way,
Because it makes life worth living each and everyday…