Sourced from: Association for Psychological Sciences
I could feel the nakedness of my face,
Cause my mask of pretence was snatched away from me,
By the dark cloud that was hovering above me.
I could hear the laughter of the thunder and I could feel the sorrow of the rain,
Penetrating deep into my skin, tearing my mask apart,
Uncovering the soles of my misery and the blisters of my despair.
I could feel the wind mocking me and I could see the moon dim its shining light,
Making way for darkness to creep in.
I could feel the darkness consuming my soul,
Recklessly ripping it apart,
Leaving a trail, like a man eating man.
Conflict with thyself 