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Awoke after the sun's rise,
A little piece of light removed from four walls closing in,
A fresh memory of a night's eerie dream,
My God, why must I see such sorrows?
A tiny flake of sanity fell and crashed to reality,
Realization of my own constriction,
Felt an empty pride die,
A small child's laugh cry,
Knew my own grimace was only hate-ridden,
How could it come to this?
What past sins weren't atoned?
What part of me was self,
And how much is selfish?
O', why must the morn be so dreadful?
I thought I had been right all along,
What a sad sad tale I weave now,
Achievement only in my own downfall,
Standing now looking out,
Glass reflects false light of a golden day,
How the happy beams mock me,
How arrogant I am to assume their jest,
What right to have,
Which part of me is still honest?
A side filled with forlorn peace,
And a bitter half of flaming hate!
Like a ghost my soul weaves,
Destiny's calling not for me,
How sad, My birth was unfortunate,
The b*****d child can only observe, not influence reaction.
Curses, be upon me!
So I shall drink thine crimson blood....
Corrupt, sick, and twisted!
An atrocious embodiment of disgust!
Seated, on a cruel throne!
Thorns of discontent extend,
Black as bile spewed from hounds that feast on thine own flesh.
Blackest of the black,
Give me your vermin!
Cruelest of the damned,
Sell me your soul!
Filthiest of thy children,
Glare upon me not,
For eyes as wicked as thine will only pierce with hatred!