In the dead of the night comes the boy with no soul,

He sits by the window and cuts himself.

The razor cutting deeper into his skin,

As he bites his lip to curl back a scream.

The rain falls in huge chunks outside,

Just like the blood running down his feet.

He stays there until sleep appears,

And the fog carries him into a new realm.

He feels the pressure release from his shoulders,

And new found warmth surrounding him.

He’s found his place for once and for all

Whether it be good or be dead.

It was too late to save him from his sorrow,

When he was found the next day,

He was long gone.