Turn Your Eyes To The Bitter Glass

All my life they preach to me,

Existence is only black and white,

There are no shades of gray,

The right is day, the wrong is night,

And you can never choose them both.

And day, of course, is the only choice.

Anything else is always wrong.

As long as you are cold and pure

You need not worry, you will belong,

And acceptance must always be your goal.

But they are so blinded by their own glow,

They cannot see the vicious lies.

How can they see anything at all

Through painfully illuminated eyes,

So self-righteous and deluded?

They dream of monsters in the dark,

Who hide in shadows and stalk them in the night.

They cannot see that there is no demon.

Differences turn to evil in their sight,

And such as I are always their first targets.

They look at me with cold stares,

And assume right away that I am evil.

Because I denounce their nonsensical logic

They immediately set me up as a rival,

And hunt me as the creature they fear.

In facing them, I face ultimate contempt,

And though I would much rather turn and run,

I face their self-righteous pity and forced isolation,

Their glares, and that endless mantra pouring from a wicked tongue:

"be careful or you'll end up like her."

And it is true that I hate them all.

I want to take their perfect glaring light,

And I'll shove it down their perfect slender throats;

And if they really want me to, I'll become the night,

And turn all their laughter to screaming.

But you must forget the old ways of life,

For there is no line between darkness and light.

I was not born to be loved, and I refuse to conform,

But neither was I created to kill for the night,

And you will see me now for what I really am.

For, ironically, I still do yearn for love,

Though I know I shall never have my desire,

And when I feel this pain, I just watch them,

As they scurry about and burn on their pires,

And I remember that it is better this way.

He looks into my burning eyes and smirks,

Secure in the knowledge that he is my superior,

And I realize that I should be thankful I can fight the urge

To drown in unrequited love and its terrors,

That I am immune to the dreams of the others.

And I find that despite my inner yearnings,

This is not the world of my destiny,

And someday I must descend to the realm of my heart,

And accept the place where I am meant to be.

For there is only one place where I belong.

The image I see in the mirror each day

Is no beautiful nor elegant nor pure,

But I know what I am inside and that is a comfort,

Because I can face the pain when I am sure

That I am not the one tortured by the image.

But when you look into the mirror with a smile,

The reflection that smiles back will be twisted with truth.

And when you pull your hand bac to shatter the image,

You will find that fragments of glass are just as sooth

As the mirror you tried to destroy.

And you fear the image that you face each day,

Because it is not the one that you would choose.

You will see that the monster is not me,

And you will know that you are the one who did lose

For your demon is the prejudice within.

So if you want to know hatred, don't look to me,

Think of yourself, and what you have become.

Tha should be more than enough introspection

For you to see that you are all the real sum

Of a million endless years of hatred on this earth.

You see, if you want to understand true contempt,

Look to the people around you and watch how they treat me.

And if you want to see what fear looks like,

Gaze into to the eyes of your people and see,

For with their fear and their hatred, they are the real evil in the end.

And so I tell you, turn your gaze to the bitter glass,

And realize that the truth is there for all of you to find,

Let it wash over you like a benediction...

But because I know you cannot leave your old truth behind,

I must leave you to your stale lectures and your broken lies.

And so I see that I am a chosen one,

Destined to speak my mind and always be condemned.

So I shall turn my back on the people of the sun,

Who call the light good though it is the thing that can rend

The flesh from bone and turn their blood to dust.

And as I leave, I will find my own voice,

And I will raise my flame-lit eyes to the burning sky,

And I will watch one last time as your killing sun scorches you,

Before I descend to the lands where I cannot die,

And embrace the place where I belong.