A voice in the darkness

Freedom is a thing of dreams. Shackled by a society that could never find a way to accept what they don’t understand. Kept in the dark where I am the thing that goes bump in the night.

A monster created by things no sane mind could accept. Locked away while life goes on outside my prison walls.

I dream of things created in darkness, of dark moons, flames flickering, skeletal branches scratching on the window, wind and wolves are the music that fill my empty hours.
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I am the shadow on the wall, the owl singing it’s lonely song, the clouds that dance across the night sullen sky.

I am your heartbeat in the depth of night, I am your every fear and your worst nightmare come true.

I am the rage that pounds in your veins at injustices left to rot in your soul. I am the tears of heartbreak, the moaning of your lonely soul when you think no one is there to hear.

I am the memories you try to forget, the grudges you think you don’t hold.

I am pain and in your pain, I am power.

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