It's the late nights that kill,
When I'm all alone, losing my will to survive.
And in this dark room, my demons walk, crawl, and thrive,
Looking to steal what's left of my fragmented life, right before my eyes.
But in this dark room tonight,
They don't see me, they don't hear me,
Because they don't know that my body lays there dead,
Completely out of sight.
Surrounded by my own creatures of the night,
I watch them search and search, but they never unearth,
What has truly happened to my life.
But just because they can't see me,
Doesn't mean I am free,
And though my body might be dead,
My soul is still very much alive.
While I sit here,
Watching my demons wander around aimlessly,
A feeling of familiarity captures me by surprise.
I notice each one of the demons look like me,
And I finally realize it's because I made them,
Now I understand why it's myself I have always despised.
