If the devil was here, i'd ask him his name,
I'd bring up the past and ask if he was to blame.
I'd write him a poem or sing him a song,
I'd dance on his face, then ask "Was it wrong?"
I'd ask about heavy, moralistical views,
I'd ask him to church and as we sat in the pews,
I'd ask about god and if he is real
I'd ask about death and how does it feel.
I'd ask him if I was going to hell,
I'd ask about souls, and if my skin was a shell.
I'd ask him if i was special at all,
I'd ask "Am I evil, because I laugh when you fall?"
..and when I was tired of asking all day,
I'd look in his face and i guess what he'd say
is "Stop talking and listen to this,
I won't raise my voice. I don't want to hiss.
You are not special. You're nothing at all.
You will never rise enough to have a great fall.
You are not God's chosen, he doesn't love you.
You won't go to heaven because you sit in a pew.
Go worship an alter, you won't sit at his feet.
You won't be an angel, for you are just meat."
There are times in life when it feels like everything is spiraling out of control. I loose myself in work and hope it stops, but it doesn't its just a pause until the next time. the next time might not be as bad, but sometimes its worse. they call it depression, they call it this or that or the other...It isn't me being sad...I'm not sad, the darkness is taking me places I don't want to go. I don't want to be here, but here is where i am and here is where i rot.
COMMENTS
-