I’ll come home to a nothingness of horror,
And write what I shouldn’t.
All because the rules are too decisive,
And perfection lied to me.

My perished soldier was never real
He was a thing of dreams.
Mortal that sits where reality shocks
Fell in the grace of sin.

If I could ever let it go,
I guess I swear I would.
The hurt is all too sharp to take,
Denial’s a spill of ruins.

I laughed at the lies that spun to the ground
My own betrayal that’d self-destruct
Humor me oh loveliness
With creation that begins at dusk.

I lived in all the hard love I brought,
Pity all my tries.
These of things for me to believe
In all love’s twisted lies.

I fear my thoughts will all come out,
And nothing be left of me,
That I guess is the reason why,
My silence tends to win.