• It is a face... It is my face
    Telling me how
    to live my life.

    It is a dream... it is a sorrowful dream
    Sorrowful yet
    without emotion.

    It is a thought... it is a tired thought
    My restless mind
    my trembling soul.

    How long will this last?
    i simply don't know.
    This is too much for me, when can I go?
    I cannot take it. It eats at my mind.
    It sneaks up and grabs me, right from behind.
    I cannot think, I cannot dream.
    My face is cloudy and in between.
    Yet it is my face, my sorrowful dream,
    my tired thoughts, all in between.
    I cannot explain it,
    I surely will falter.
    My sanity is getting softer.
    How soon will I bend, how long 'till I break?
    I simply don't know, and I can't stand to wait.
    Just get it over with. Destroy my mind.
    If that's your plan then go through with it, if you're at all kind.
    You break my will, my fragile will,
    and leave me hanging, from sanity's sill.
    My thoughts race, soon forever our of reach.
    I cannot produce movement, let alone speech.

    I finally wake up,
    my thoughts back in reach.
    Am i still insane? Is my mind still weak?
    I try to get up, I grasp a chair,
    Only to look into
    my father's evil stare.
    He grabs my shoulder,
    he slaps me around.
    He hits me and hits me I can't make a sound.
    I'm silenced by fear, mustn't anger him more.
    He yells and he yells and he hits me some more.
    I lay motionless, sprawled on the floor.
    He picks me up, slaps my face,
    he throws me down, i am his disgrace.
    He is shameful to have me, to even know me,
    so he hits me and yells that there's no one below me.
    I ache everywhere, how long can I last,
    this madman's insanity never will pass.
    He finally stops, leaves me laying on the floor.
    I crawl with weak arms, I crawl for the door.
    He turns around, sees me making a scene.
    You would to, if me you had been.
    He finally kicks me, while I'm on the floor.
    He yells at me, I just cry even more.
    He walks away, away from his mess.
    As he walks away, he thinks less and less.
    His brain is numb, his pace starts to slow.
    He falls on the floor, his sanity low.
    I drag myself up, I barely can stand.
    I look at the place where my father lands.
    He is motionless, but cannot be dead.
    His eyes bloodshot, his face all red.
    I climb up the stairs, climb up to my room,
    my father will be getting up soon.
    I lay down to rest, my face black and blue.
    I realize there's something that I have to do.
    I can't live like this, this will not do...

    I'm filled with rage, hate for that man.
    Muster up all the rage that i can.
    I go to the kitchen, I must end this now.
    I pull out a knife, I get a towel.
    My dad yells my name, he's clearly up.
    I run at him, as my anger builds up.
    This is it, i think, this will be the end.
    I throw the towel down, no way to amend.
    I thrust the knife, straight into his heart.
    But it didn't make it, didn't plan for this part.
    He had grabbed my hand, and threw me down.
    he took the knife, I watched him scowl.
    He picks me up, throws me to the wall.
    He watched me while I slow motion fall.
    Adrenaline rushing, he jumps at me.
    There is now way out, condemned for death in 3.
    2.
    1.
    Black.