From childhood’s hour I was not the same

As others were; I did not play games

As others played; I could not resist becoming this way

For as others were colorful as I was shaded grey.

From the days that grew somber I did not find

My path; The twisted mind

Leaned towards eternal darkness that was ahead;

And those who suffered deserved to be dead.

Then—in my childhood, in the night

Of a most dreadful life—was bright

Sensing the pain others lash out with no restraint

My struggles were solved and I became a saint:

From the flesh of fallen angels,

From the silent night that approached so painful

From the blood on my hands was a thoughtful fright

But instantly was notified as a beauty of delight,

From the clouds in the night sky

As they swarmed above me coasting by,

From the insanity of my raging wrath

I found my one and only path

While staring at the gates of Hell, I held the key

Of a laughing devil inside of me.