Standing on the edge of nothingness
the wind of regret blowing through me
as my deamons dance the ring of deception
that I'm becoming more tempted to join
'Come, ' I hear them say as they weave
'You belong to us, don't you see?
The dreams that make you scream,
the Dark Mistress that forever stands beside you,
everything that makes you who you are
is nothing but a beautiful lie to keep you alive.'
How do you fight a shadow when you are weak;
when misery is engraved into your soul?
How do you resist the urge to fade away
when all your heart ever feels is pain?
Love has long since abanonded me
Happiness stopped coming to my door years ago
and I have fallen from Grace since the day my heart broke
So with nothing to lose
and nothing to gain
I take my deamons' hand and dance...
And the lie takes my life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Deana, fantastic work. But don't take the deamon's hand.