The music blasts in the background.

Lights flaunt their colors,

Releasing their luminescent brilliance.

The kids succumb to its curse:




To the beat.

With each rhythm repeating the steps of heartbreak they took,

Prior to their deliberate deaths.

With each gulp they swallow their sins

Repenting one last time

Before the lights refuse to flicker.

With each inhale of the smoke

Dwindling down to a mere nothingness.

Drowning in their own stupidity,

Their eyes glaze over

Reflecting their finals decisions.

Bloodshot dictates the white

Poisoning it and having its way.

Not a care is shown.

The kids give-in to the trauma,




As they tumble to the ground.

Tripping over their hopeless loss of innocence.

Tasting what the floor has to offer.

The tastes of death and unwanted facades,

They wrap their sorry hands around their bodies

Looking for any sign of warmth.

Any signal to sweet salvation.

The night remains forever young,

Stirring their senses,

And turning them into twisted intentions.

Another group of idolized statistics.

The lights flash with one last sign of remembrance,

For all those who surrendered to the beautiful silence.

The stereo plays one last slow song,

To recall the night when common sense failed.

The disco ball rotates irregularly

Reflecting prisms of false light

On the alleged ceiling.

And everyone starts




And a girl takes on last swallow

Of the poisonous concoction,

Throwing away all the radiance she bears.

But as she hits the ground

Hard and cold like her decisions,

Her life thrown away and wasted ;

She realizes that the only thing wasted is her.