Could this be more overwhelming?
How I want to cry and scream
Not care and care too much
All at the same time.
How could I live with myself
Knowing what I've done
More than once before
I only wish this wasn't habitual
It feels like a disease
In which there's no cure
And I just want to
Stab the demon inside
Doing this to me.
And the innocent I love
They deserve no part of this
To feel the sickness like I do
When they are completely well
Without knowing of me.
Like every other disease
I've become weak
And pale with grief
I can barely feel
The graces of life
Because I live a sinner's life.
Absent of the beauty, majesty
That I no longer deserve.
And every single one
Who falls into my presence
Loses the beauty as well.
It's like the wise Sophocle's
Written in his brilliance
The beautiful women of his stories
Their beautiful, deadly voices
Only to victimize the ears
Of those who fell to them.
The victimous ears
Of those innocent fools
Who no other than a fool
Could fall for my vicious song?
The song within me
The disease so bitter
Controlling my every move
Ripping apart its' victims
Like the lightning does the sky.
The disease
So ripe in its destruction
Binds the heart within me
Forcing me to push away
Those that I want to love
I long to wake up the day
When the cure has been found
The antidote to this misery
The antidote to the decay.
The malignance within
My callous soul
That chokes my cry for help
That shapes my life and me.