Matthew Wayne
By the grace of the divine. Felt deceived when I ran out of time. So much I wanted to say but kept it sealed and locked away. Who could I fool? The demons wanted out to play. I close my eyes and search for any reason why I should remain sane.
Fear rules over our minds controlling our hearts.
No longer do we trust our neighbors, brother or sister. Can no longer trust myself when deep down there brews something sinister. Locking ourselves behind closed doors to decay even faster. It is a choice to remain ignorant. A sense of security within that bliss. Waking from that dream into this nightmare with just one kiss, while you reach out for anyone who might be there. The illusion is fading does anyone even care? Trust is now a fable, a whisper across the table.
The Dead Poet
Just how far are you willing to take this?
Destroying your soul, standing before your own abyss.
Simply close your eyes, now make your wish.
“In this illusion is there really such a thing as luck?”
In the war zone I shall die,
glory to be had on the battlefield as I fall
there is power in truth, victory over the lie.
A child once in fear, now we all stand tall.
Damien Nosferatu
You are caught within a web built from their lies. It is the circle of life as you struggle just to survive but everything eventually dies. We are creatures of habit where we allow our emotions to run rabid. We are a disease as we spread, devouring everything that is in eye sight. As this theater of life plays on in our head. We suffer with your ignorance to the plight where you gave up before the war started. Shit got hard so you simply departed. Afraid and unsure, so now the whole experience is nothing but a blur.
The Dead Poet
I find myself often repeating the same mistakes over and over again, as if I had forgotten the lesson. The same trials will soon begin. I will fight against the current, my goal will be to survive the irony. To numb the pain and to be free. Once more within the throws of addiction. Drawn to this vice for a reason. I search for an escape from this vary reality that you help manifest, that you create. Slowly over time it transforms into a security line. Days and weeks blend merging as one. The world I had built around myself begins to melt. The deed has been done. I will slowly wake to a world that no longer feels real. I bartered with the devil and signed the deal.
Damien Nosferatu