Every shadow screaming at me,
Explaining how it should be done exactly.
They promise God is looking the other way,
That there has never been such a finer day.

Hidden in the drawer's folds is father's gun.
Slowly griping the black steel, my descent has begun.
Rapid eye movement beneath the sleeping veils,
Looking down at them in peace makes the demon flail.

I only want to make it end
So no longer will I pretend
That I am happy with how things are.
What was light in me is now black as tar.