When all they do is torment, controlling all freedom,
Telling you nothings acceptable save pain,
When knives take the place of peace, and blood is beautiful,
When everything's gone to hell, and nothings worth anything,
Life has no purpose, no joy, no meaning,
When all they do is encourage you to die,
When they say not to talk, to keep your pain and anger bottled up inside, till you explode,
they say better silent and making people happy, then speaking out and ruining everything, so I should keep my peace, and die, rather than speak out,
They say it's fair, when I die, maybe they'll realize,
People listen to what they say and take them seriously,
And maybe, just maybe, they'll think about what they say,
They'll think about what they say,
Think about the possible outcomes,
I spent weeks gathering courage to ask them for help,
To find the answers to questions that have been burning a hole though me,
And now they've made it impossible for me to ask for there help,
Or maybe even someone else's,
All I want to do is leave this hole,
All I see are demons, surrounding me,
They mock and jeer, by the time the sun rises,
All that will be left are the demons clawing at the soul of the innocent,
The only ones left with the ability to fight.
