Oh come, oh come,

Let’s all bask in misery,

Withering, behind masks. 

Grueling months of waging wars,

Against those hidden beneath a pesky fox. 

Reaping blood, from pitiable souls, 

Screaming for help, in unjust courts.
Alone, she treads upon the thorns,

Alone, brave faced to forsee the change. 

Battles of terrifying melancholy,

Brimming with self destruction. 
Ah guilt, why doth thee show up ?

To a horrendous human, to a good person. 
Filtering thoughts into a shiny jar,

With doors of the dark not too far. 
Frozen tears, solitary grief,

In an epiphany of the deadened reef. 
Step one to heal,

Step two to scream. 
Forced apart, the mind wanders,

Into bleak shadows, never to return. 
Escape but the only visible choice,

Screeching ruthlessness, 

And seemingly closer black ditches. 
Blasphemously drawn shady curtains,

Hiding, the runaway. 

To run or not;

To screech or not.