All the stories are true;
the ones they told you as a child.
The ones about monsters hiding under your bed
just waiting to harm you.
Except those aren’t just stories
and the monsters aren’t hiding under your bed.

They are inside you.

And there is nothing you can do about it
except sit down and pray to God that they go away.
but deep down,
you know that they’ll never go away.
Yet, you force yourself to think otherwise because if you don’t,
then you are left with nothing.

They say that God lives in us all,
but if God lives in us,
then what’s stopping the devil from living in us as well?
What if there is only room for one?

Who wins?

We determine our fate.
We decide the person we want to become.
It is all up to us.

But what if we were set up from the beginning?
What if it was all a hoax and we have no control in any of it?

Then what?

My thoughts are at war.
The monsters are fighting the angels and sometimes I think the monsters will win.
As a child the world is a giant playground just waiting to be explored,
and as long as you make it back to your parents before dark
the monsters can’t get you.
But as you grow up you realize that the world;
It’s a dark place.
The innocence you once saw in it as a child has suddenly vanished and you are left out in the cold.
There is no longer anyone there to save you from the demons that pursuit you
and the people who wanted to be there you pushed away because you know
that you could never put them through the pain that you are going through.
You could never let them see a world this dark.

But there is some twisted humor in all of this.

Think about how many things had to go wrong in your life to get you to such a low point.
Think about how anything that could go wrong just happened to go wrong.
What s***ty luck.

We dedicate our lives to fighting these demons
but, we were the ones who created them in the first place.
Sometimes without even knowing it.

But how can something that we created,
rip us apart this much?

How could we let ourselves get like this?

I blame the monsters.
They twist everything around,
until one day we wake up and don’t even recognize the person in the mirror.

But the monsters don’t have to win.
It doesn’t have to be game over for us.
No.
Pick yourself up off of the floor,
wipe away the tears,
and take a deep breath.

The monsters told you all your life that you are broken and that you will stay broken,
but even a broken clock is right twice a day. 
The monsters don’t get to decide your future
only you do.
So pick up your sword because the battle isn’t over,
you still have men willing to fight.

The stories may be true,
but the ending doesn’t have to be.

       Twisted