raised with death surely this was right, dancing with the devil in the pale of the night, those beacons now slash at my spirit like a knife, the siren song is now just the soundtrack of the strife, if death means nothing than nothing means life, the cycle is irrelevant, it’s a meaningless plight, blood contract, signed, my soul is now ripe, i fit in where death always wins in the fight

try and make sense of accepting it never will, all those closeted shirts still hang still, is this what i am without the demon swill? is this what i am without my adrenaline fill? that life hast forsaken me but it’s mistaken identity, i’ll get better and go back, you’ll see, the lies you’re telling me about permanent injury? i can’t, i won’t, it just can’t be. fraudulent, diagnosis forgery, I’m not the one burning down… am i? please, no, not me! not me…

i never thought this would happen so soon, the sun setting sooner than i always assumed, it will all happen again, cycles, sun, moon, spring and fall, bats and loons, I’ll find a new night to romance and swoon, the cycle of a new day will not consume