He sees little difference between the shadows of a demon and an angel
He listens to a broken up voice but remains absent and unstable
He continues to obey the rumors of torment and war
Even though each fictional word leaves him more and more sore
Yet he holds on
He'll seek, but what's the use if there's nothing to find
But how would he know?
For not a soul can think straight with memorable screams in the back of their mind
He loosens his grip
His nightmares become his most peaceful place
because when he wakes there's no one there but the whispers that can lie while maintaining a straight face.
He prepares to let go
He's not sure how he got there but he's aware it's not his entire fault.
Once the victim, now the culprit of a solemn assault
He lets go
As soon as the world became to painful and he couldn't tell the difference between the shadows of a demon and an angel