Mood: ......
Listening To: Pure demonic silence..
The piercing pain,
The darkest rain,
The runaway trains,
Our memories, unchained.
The darkest days,
The unforseen ways,
The deaths, he craves,
They call him insane.
The mask of sanity,
Will break, eventually,
When his blood flows freely,
And tears supportingly.
This piercing pain,
Keeps the beast; tamed,
If he dies unvain'd,
Then nobody knows the tale.