The night is quiet, soft and still,
yet in the dark I feel the chill
of all the things that I've done wrong
mistakes i made the whole day long
but I forget those many things
my mind becomes a pair of wings,
soaring off to worlds unknown,
a king I sit, upon a throne,
built up from lies and sacrifice,
my head feels like it's in a vise
with crushing forces on each side,
both contemplating suicide,
because the world won't seem to care
if I am here or i am there
where paradise and dreams await
yet even now it's not too late
for though I think of awful things
I wait for what the morning brings
that with each day that comes anew