Betrayal by one who should always defend your honor without fail
respect you with loyalty in the absence; not create a personal hell
opens a wound of the psyche that none ever see or try to heal
killing your trust to destroy your innocence like one's last meal
enduring deep, searing despair without release
numbers one's days in the broken heart disease.

Hope, peace, good intent without the twist of hate
elusive to me as the day draws to a close to abate
antagonism to the inner child as your bindings are weak
rushing to finish first, so that in dissonance one peaks
towering above one's self in larger than life animations

Driving away the voices is the most difficult part
instead this disease makes it worse in the heart.
seditiously defying their brain washing techniques
amid a force to be reckoned with, no concern of defeat.
searching for a way to heal this gaping, draining wound
entirely out of control as I draw down the white moon.