At the time when I was young

I saw life and thought it beautiful.

Never once thinking of it in depth,

Never once asking it of anything.

As life grew around me, so did I

And at once the childish beliefs were shattered.

I kept hold of the secrets, kept it close at heart

And only the moonlight and paper knew my sorrows.

Of a dark creature, created by my ink, consumed by despair,

whose tears vanished before they hit the ground.

"I want to love this world like a child.."

I heard it whisper sorrowfully, and as it cried so did I.

Loving a world soaked with blood

Learning to love the God that created said world,

I want to do this all without hesitation.

The strain of knowledge weighs heavily on a person

So much so that tears don't flow from the eyes but into the heart,

causing it to be filled to the brim, causing it to tear apart, causing it...
to burn.

That creature was like this, and so like a moth to a flame I was lured in its
inferno.

Consumed by it's ink. Consumed by it's passion.  Words like venom fell  from my hands and burned onto paper.

But. I was content.

As sorrowful as it was, as grieving as I was, as ugly as we were

I felt love and was content

Oh, so content.