They call me the angel child;
and I suppose at some point, I once was one.
But my demons have cut off my wings a long time ago.

The elite English language
Written or spoken
Sometimes imagined or painted
Cannot fully explain the depth
of a broken heart

I cut the pain away, I cut you off as well
how can I survive, when all I know is hell

I've seen the world burn down, I've seen my self decay
but what should I do, when my reality fades away?

Tell me it'll be alright, tell me the morning is on its way
hold my hand forevermore, and keep the loneliness at bay

The pain rushes in with the tide,
and I feel so alone now, without you by my side
the darkness is whispering sweet dreams of mine,
but what am I supposed to do
when the darkness comes inside?