[Poem] The Ballad of Sorrows
The dreary waltz forced upon by the emotion,
the twisted joy people seek in pain,
the discrimination of right and wrong by simply just a name.
Feet moving themselves, uncontrolled by anyone,
the strange and dreadful things people imagine,
the freaks of society made up by the people themselves.
The simple thought of death,
the fear that rushes through,
does that fear rush through me?
Should it be feared?
The beat of your heart,
that becomes the tempo of the step,
the feelings that you just can not supress.
This is the makings of your own self-demise,
the inner workings of the inner conductor,
the only thing that is left in your heart when everything else is gone.
The release of your inner desires...
The secrets you hide from all...
The most emabrassing moments...
All lead to your number...
Your Ballad of Sorrows...