tears shed through our eyes of innocence all of which we cannot see

our passion and demon minds have not yet to perish

but grow a stronger flame

our thoughts so powerful and true its a beautiful tragedy we live in

sinful, demonic, masked, and broken but somehow we all get by 

so uniform,

so alike.

we block the truth from ourselves because we are all afraid

afraid of what might happen if we did 

aftraid of who might stare, judge, or laugh

afraid of ourselves 

we are all capable of evil

and we are all capable of good

the difference; however

is how we channel our sorrow and might and the decision of which we do with it.