Never grow up.
The glass is half-empty,
They’re screaming for relief
From the fiery pits of confusion
And torment.
Their minds are twisted,
Contorted, in pain,
There is no escape from insanity.
No matter how hard they try,
Every word they utter becomes
A devil’s cry.
They never chose this path,
They only walked upon it.
They are more or less human,
But still a human.
Darkness does not determine one’s light.