The monsters quickly collect under the bed
Graduating faster to free range demons roaming the head
Diabolical shadows lurking on the perimeter of the peripheral
Becoming a something far to real to think it still impossible
Unlike fear and loathing, fear and logic are seldomly seen traversing side by side
The unnatural occurrence of an unnecessary ride

By the time an oblivious mind realizes the kamikaze danger
The digits it controls are busy pulling out each heartbreak dagger
Those select few that came through the front from the  back
Create tallies in scar form that are starting to overlap as they stack
Teetering on life's edge as it dares me to take that final step over
Finding it impossible not to follow the devil when there's one on each shoulder

When lyrics are prophesies
And songs give a warning
You'd think that you could use them
To rewrite your story

Guess we aren't meant to see our futures, then
For when a prophesy is foretold
I only ever comprehend it
When the knowledge has grown old

So I am doomed to simply listen
And gasp when the words start to make sense
And pray if true danger ever comes
I learn how not to be so dense

The ledge of ridge to river, dark and damp,
At edge on final stone, with algae slick,
In iron-studded boots, without a lamp,
The lonely man thus stands in terror thick.

And hears the howling wolves in hunter's writ—
Despair and death approach in hushing steps,
With rancid smell and sound of drooling drip,
From crimson, slicing smiles as malice swells.

A jump to death or dying rabid stand—
Between the maw or fangs, no choice to spare.
With ice in guts, his footing slips from land
And tumbles into murk, without a care.

With rushing wind in ears, like lover’s sigh,
With eyes to sky, a wish for moon to lie.