From childhood’s hour I was not the same
As others were; I did not play games
As others played; I could not resist becoming this way
For as others were colorful as I was shaded grey.
From the days that grew somber I did not find
My path; The twisted mind
Leaned towards eternal darkness that was ahead;
And those who suffered deserved to be dead.
Then—in my childhood, in the night
Of a most dreadful life—was bright
Sensing the pain others lash out with no restraint
My struggles were solved and I became a saint:
From the flesh of fallen angels,
From the silent night that approached so painful
From the blood on my hands was a thoughtful fright
But instantly was notified as a beauty of delight,
From the clouds in the night sky
As they swarmed above me coasting by,
From the insanity of my raging wrath
I found my one and only path
While staring at the gates of Hell, I held the key
Of a laughing devil inside of me.