+In Goth We Trust+

How many times have I asked you for sleep? And how many times have you denied me? To want sleep eternal is a small thing to ask of you. And it seems that you laugh at me everyday. TO further my insecurities of why I am here and why I still exist. Why must I hate this so much and why should I suffer this much? I am far beyond the boundaries of this life, my soul wanders in this corpse waiting for some sort of release. This mind dreams of a far better place, A place of serenity and comfort. Not of constant torture and insanity. Free to feel once more and not be afraid. Free to live once more and not be en-caged by the chains of this life. Oh holy one why do you laugh at me as such? Why do you scorn me though I’ve done nothing wrong? Everything you’ve asked I’ve done. What will it take to make you see I am weary? I am tired of traveling on this road. There is nothing left of me. The world has used me up for what they could gain. I have given to many yet few have returned the gift. My heart is like rotted flesh, empty, lifeless, and cold. Withered and brown and returning to whence it came. Why do you continue to make me suffer? How much do I have to bleed for you, in hopes that you will spare me? Count the days, the hours, the minutes, yet I am dead within this body which still breathes. A body plagued and stricken with a living death, far worse than mortal death. Oh holy one why do you laugh at me as such? Why do you scorn me though I’ve done nothing wrong? A mask to them so that they might not see the truth of what is inside of me. Ripping others apart slowly over a period of time and they will never know. Killing them slowly with words of kindness and hope, at the same time tapping their veins to suck them of all life, all emotion, and all feeling. I am full of the world, yet the belly is not. It’s Starvation in a sense, wanting for someone to care about me for once. Do you care? Or is that your ploy to keep me here, To keep me alive? Closing my eyes slowly to block out the screaming of the world. In blackness I see, and in blackness I live. I have drunk of a thousand souls in this hell, yet nothing has come to quench my thirst. And souls from beyond reach out, taunting me of something that I cannot have. Kissing me softly upon my brow. Burning lips to inspire great torture. and Soft caresses that bring about utter madness. Death rattle. Oh how sweet it must be to live in their world. I cry for freedom, but only in vane.