I take a stand against the monster in the corner.
The tall, black, shell of a man.
He talks broken english, like a stereotypucal foreigner.
The monster had set my good dreams in a can.
Now it is only the bad dreams I can dream.
These dreams however, fade into my reality.
The real world has gone down a fictional stream.
My entire life, just suffered a fatality
These dreams manifested themselves into more monsters.
Alcoholics, pedophiles, murders just to name a few.
But a special few were absorbed into people, like invasion of the body snatchers.
These dreams manifested as demons for those people, like an emotional stew.
I take credit for these peoples problematic lives.
It is I that created them.
I am your god, and I gave you those feelings as sharp as knives.
I am your god, I am the problem's stem.
