Dark and alone, abused and ignored,
She is the one rejected by the Lord.
Sitting in the dark sipping blood from her wrists,
She’s given her soul to the 6-6-6.
Dressed in black clothing, covered in chains,
The pleasure in life is derived from her pain.
Faint traces of tears run down her face,
As she realizes there’s no point to this place.
She keeps to herself, she’s misunderstood.
Everyone fears her, just as they should.
Her makeup is dark, as dark as the night,
And her eyes stay cast downward, out of sight.
She writes deep poetry about her life,
And releases her pain with the slice of the knife.
Nobody loves her, nobody cares,
Everyone judges by the clothing she wears.
She cries herself to sleep, hoping to die,
She just can’t seem to understand why.
She’s satanic, she’s Emo, she’s Goth, she’s depressed.
She is the nobody whom the devil’s possessed
