Diving in the waves of summer
Who could ever, who could wonder
About the follies dwelling so very under
But in this wake, no dreams wander
And it is well known that it is the home of monsters.
The branches creaking and groaning in the light
The whirling silence beneath the darkest night
The nameless horror in faceless beast
As on only fear, it takes and feasts.
Sometimes I’d ask what I have become
Empathy has died with love, how fearsome-
What monster have I become? One side pities-
And the other manipulates and has a taste for burnt cities
Who am I truly, why am I so fond of becoming rotten?
The only thing keeping me alive is that I don’t want to be forgotten
So, say; what if I struggle making a monster for you to see
Just so that my mind has a reason for hating me.