There's a man in my mirror,
His face is not mine.
He's painted onto the walls,
And carved into my mind.
He whispers In my ear,
And tells me strange things,
His twisted words betray me,
He laughs and he sings.

He has eyes so yellow as the sun,
They pierce through me, nothing can be done.
He possesses the key to set me free but he will never give it back to me.

I hope one day he will set me free,
And leave with  all of the memories he gave me.

They say they suffer

I wish for sweet suffering
If it is physical.
Are they called on
By the musical

Harrowing

Quaking

Voice of God

"Let them nail you to the cross!"

Waking up in a tomb
The mother's great womb

A nurse looking at me
Take this pill
Get a job

When you reach for the cold wooden board
your hands begin to decay
your skin peels back then hardens and falls off your scarlet bones.
A bright midnight flash struggles to push through to the other side of your mind
revealing that you passed years ago but are stuck in an actuality that doesn’t belong to you.
Life is all just a disorder, dead but you keep on living
a distorted mind trapped in an unborn child's head.
Or it could be a game from the further future that they play
controlling little beings within a screen.
The words engraved on the board now lay in your flesh and you cannot let go
from the reality within reality
but is the concept that hard to grasp?
You believe in God but not your own insanity?
We are the dead ones that are only able to perceive
they are makers of our madness
the creators of an urban fantasy
and they try to speak to us from millions of years in the future through a sharp birch wood board
but the lies we are told and the truths that this “world” withholds
does not compare to the unknown universe outside of this screen.

A war wages between your head and your body.
You wake up next to your anxiety,
Coating you in a bubble between rationality and fear.
Evil holds your hand every day,
You never noticed him until you were ten years old and they told you about war.
He was the lieutenant.
You never wanted to know him but you found yourself at thirteen,
Looking him in the eye when the kids at school called you names.
Now he walks with you everyday and waves to all the kids he knows.
Evil is the pressure of depression,
The mania of schizophrenia,
The animal that is anorexia.
You hold all of the goodness inside of you.
And all of the evils too.

I am constraint
In a constraint body
I move from thought to thought
race  between a permanent
solitude
I hear a screaming voice
and it´s my own
She´s screaming out my own
deepest   secrets
Who  did I tell my  shame?
If not you
You keep me, in a confinement
locked in among my frustrated fears
morbidly amused by their strenght
I  stay in here.
Where else  would I go
If  not   back to you.

There's a place
Where the light
Won't find you,
Deep inside.

There's a place,
Where the hope,
Is so cold,
Deep inside.

We have all been scorched
Down the flat of our feet,
From the walk, to the top
Of our lowered heads,
And it was decided we didn't want to do this anymore.

I see my clique have made it quite clear they've been winning more battles now,
I walk around the camp checking out their paintings and hearing their chants,
And I see hands holding hands, keeping them too,
The saving was done by brave, obscure tunes,
Different sound waves crafted by two, saved them all and grew them new.
The art everywhere and battle scars,
I smile a little smile but it's a sad one in my mind,
It's all out of my insider thoughts,
It's all out of my insider gloom.

I should fall into these groups,
Of survival in the dark, but it's way over my top,
And I shuffle back to my place and same all spot to watch from a far,
And the whispers declare this is the darkest dark.

There's a place,
Where the light,
Won't find you,
Deep inside.

But there's a way,
And a choice we can make,
To find it instead.
Way outside.

Now... what is it in my heart, that I like this dark?....