It's always the same - the darkness, being alone, the pain -
I look into the mirror to see myself stare back
but the dark look in my eyes turns me around to see the world.
The thought of death - the horrible life I lead -
this has nothing to do with the good I was raised through.
The darkness behind my eyes isn't that of an evil self;
it is that of the evil in which I behold upon others.
I hate living because of the evil of those around me
and although I try to believe there's more good
I only become more disappointed as I watch good crumble.
Thy eyes hold more depth and long for more than help.
A Miracle - brightness -
something must shine through to show me light
for if life continues on as it has been...
surely Death will call upon me, and I will comply with however he sees fit.
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