We have become slaves to our hearts
brainwash with the same blood that runs through us
love is where it starts
why is it always a must
to find goals that are aspiring is like getting picked on the team
or little solos within our own dreams
we are marked with the lust of sin
no longer able to help our kin
but we still wake up, day after day
wondering what the price is to pay
there are men of morals
and men of just talk
We are sorrowful creatures
ones that can't get up when we can't find the air
we inhale the toxic of this world
we hate and we grieve
only to wanting to find the answer to what if
but who are we to tell the ocean to move
to live or to die
who are we to find to tell the colors its okay to be bright
we are the creatures that hell presented to us
even on the darkest of days
my demons fear me
they stopped talking when I had no more words to say
but whom am I to judge
when the judger became the witness to self enslavement
I fear myself
knowing that im the demon within
I picture words lining up
as my grave was already made made
But whom am I
