Lying alone in my bed,
Wallowing in a pool of red,
With tears, blood, a gun; dead,
Is my warped reflection with a bullet in the head.
The angel and devil on my shoulders bread;
Releasing demons into my head.
Should have I listened to what they said?
Why did I swallow the lies they fed?
They destroyed the life I led.
And I'm still here trying to cage them in the deep recesses of my head.
As I lay in bed.
I begin to give into those voices i dred.
Why do I feel so sad?
Would it really be that bad,
To be dead?
Now, as warped reflections become reality; I'm made dead,
The sacrifice for silence and sanity was my head.
And I'm left empty, except for this bullet in my head.
