Laughing sin,
Cruel words
Accursed kin,
Weakened cords.
You claim you wish to help me.
You say this is for my own good.
But, this shall only feed me to insanity,
Thus, negating that you believe to be good.
You imprison me in a cell made of words,
You bind me with silver lies,
That I am unable to slice through with swords.
I hear your disappointed sighs,
Trying to hid behind your shields.
I writhe and I fight,
As your poisonous ideals
Force themselves within my mind.