The Monster locked inside this mirror is full of deception,
Deceived by a world full of hate and conception.
No where to turn to get a gasp of air,
There are no self righteous that are godly or fair.

The marks and the wounds left to ravage in this hell,
Turning against an inmate trapped inside a single cell,
Broken by the scars of the utter nerve of depresion,
Trying to find the simple elegance of resurrection.

The deposition is hidden behind remorse,
Hidden, like the Trojans located inside the golden horse.
Suffocated in the marks of anxiety,
Struggling to get by in this devilsih rebuke of sociality.

The inword struggle subdues the pain,
Reflected by the thoughts deeply lodged with in the brain.
The worthless feelings of becoming nothing,
Brought on by the dark choir of hell's angels singing,
A song worthy of rebuke, destruction and hate,
With a soild voice of determination plotting the fate.

The outward destruction of a once simple inward heart ache,
Is held by the the voice of the grim ripper burning you at stake.
Like a moth drawn to an empty flame,
Drenched inside a misconception left for someone to blame.

The sanity of ones soul if left in the gate keepers hand,
Scretching and pulling the soul into the dark black water like sand.
The victims skin drenched in gasoline,
As the gate keeper draws forth what is clean.
Drowning the victim in their youthful connection,
Surrounding their empty hearts in deception.

Hidden in this dark shadow of hell's light,
The depresion is turned into something bright
Because located in this sorrow,
Nothing will ever seem bright cuz it's taken over the bitterness of the thought of tomorrow.