Demons

Shiny and bright, sharp and pointed

Play at the vicinity of my hand.

They tell me to play with them

And I tell them I'm so scared, I can't.

They tell me don't be stupid

What do I know of pain?

I tell them I know of hurt

I tell 'em I have been through the same!

Sharp edges ask me

So tell us mister what is your story?

I tell them of what I've done

They tell me, rest assured we're sorry!

Then they ask why is it that I suffer

of agony and treachery?

Let us lift your spirit in these bad times

And free you of all these misery!

They offer me their help

and tell me how they can fix me.

They tell me they'd take all my pain away

and give me a dose of their expertise.

I in return give them my highest regards

And bid them farewell.

But my temptations have a better hold of me

And I just have to see what they had to tell!

So I go, just for a tiny round

To see what they can offer.

And was I wrong in my perception?

They freed me of all my woes and even better.

It's not so much of the mental hurt anymore

that makes me curl and forget the pain.

I have something else to now look forward to

A wound just of my own, that makes me feel sane.