Mask
Two faces,
One dream,
Endless memories,
Beyond that hallow stream.
Two sides,
One story,
Countless remedies,
Leading them to glory.
Walk along the withering ways,
Stradling that short blade.
See nothing but the mask,
Say nothing but the image you've made.
War
Walk down the lonely road,
Littered with death and despair.
War stains the once green lands,
As it withers into ashes.
Nothing lives,
Nothing moves,
The cold mouse sleeps in the corner,
Laying somberly throughout the streets.
Close you eyes and breath,
Toxin.
Life is death, and death is life.
Fear and weakness are one.
Fear not death,
Nor life itself.
As the raven speaks “Nevermore.”
Hell
I am from pain and suffering,
From humiliation and wishing I would just die.
I am from hearing the sound of grave footsteps crashing against ancient wood,
Making me shiver with each step.
And from those steps, trying to tell if they are heading towards me.
I am from standing tall and definite,
Not letting a tear roll down my face.
And digging my nails into my flesh,
As the cold words ring in my head.
I am from lying in my room, tears rolling down from my eyes,
Telling myself it’s going to be ok.
I am from being on the verge of packing up,
Or just walking out the door.
I am from Hell,
Which I found surprisingly cold, lonely, and silent.
The complete opposite of what I’ve always been told.
I am from being ridiculed for who I am,
And what I do.
Two faces,
One dream,
Endless memories,
Beyond that hallow stream.
Two sides,
One story,
Countless remedies,
Leading them to glory.
Walk along the withering ways,
Stradling that short blade.
See nothing but the mask,
Say nothing but the image you've made.
War
Walk down the lonely road,
Littered with death and despair.
War stains the once green lands,
As it withers into ashes.
Nothing lives,
Nothing moves,
The cold mouse sleeps in the corner,
Laying somberly throughout the streets.
Close you eyes and breath,
Toxin.
Life is death, and death is life.
Fear and weakness are one.
Fear not death,
Nor life itself.
As the raven speaks “Nevermore.”
Hell
I am from pain and suffering,
From humiliation and wishing I would just die.
I am from hearing the sound of grave footsteps crashing against ancient wood,
Making me shiver with each step.
And from those steps, trying to tell if they are heading towards me.
I am from standing tall and definite,
Not letting a tear roll down my face.
And digging my nails into my flesh,
As the cold words ring in my head.
I am from lying in my room, tears rolling down from my eyes,
Telling myself it’s going to be ok.
I am from being on the verge of packing up,
Or just walking out the door.
I am from Hell,
Which I found surprisingly cold, lonely, and silent.
The complete opposite of what I’ve always been told.
I am from being ridiculed for who I am,
And what I do.
