Mightier than the sword and the pen. At the root from which temptation stems. My fingers begin to slip, Into the Devil’s hand who extends. Loneliness is an unequivocal nightmare. A constant reminder. Alone. By yourself. On your own. You have no help. You think of the old friend, you see their back. Think about the friend you wish you had, Who makes you think back, To the old friend who turned their back. All of the others who you embrace, To feel comfortable, to feed your ego, to protect your insecurities, to pretend, to hide your true face. Your darkness is lit by that candle. It covers the greatest fear in your life. Afraid of dreams becoming memories, And memories becoming ghosts. A never-ending nightmare, With no awakening in the future, No idea where this nightmare will go, And a desperate soul reaching to the depths of hell for help.
"As We Struggle to Make Sense Of Things, Life Looks On In Repose"