For my words after, free and light.


I know not where she has gone,

the angel that used to comfort me.


By the mere mention of her name,

demons were silenced.


Demons who laugh at my frustration in the night,

no longer bound by the power of my angel.


Struggling through the endless tick-tocks and

Writing through words 'til morning croaks.


For the pleasures before, penance or price?