You really should not be here.

The Minotaur.

I’m losing this battle inside my mind.

These demons are too strong.

That piece of me- I hope to find.

One I’ve been missing all along.

 

From the start- So different then.

Just me and you, Invincible.

Now those thoughts, they die, descend. 

Who knew we’re so expendable.

 

But use me? Why?

For business or for pleasure?

Long ago should of been good bye.

My fucked up sacred treasure.

 

Extract it from your thoughts, he will.

The Minotaur can see.

He’ll muddle truth from lie, he will.

A being misconceived.

 

Like thread his claws will sew ideals.

Instances and theories.

Bias is his judgement ever.

Focus slipped from constant queries.

 

Invite yourself to comprehend.

A darkness surpassing black.

Your psyche’s ultimatum- transcend.

Or be conscious for the attack.

 

The Minotaur will spare you.

And keep your eyes pinned wide.

The horror will appeal to.              

His work interwoven inside.


Human life, like code to break into.

Psychosis slipping sickly down.

The bodies, all lay waste to.

This demon sewn inside.

 

You cannot hope to subdue.

The monstrosity that is the end.

I’ve seen it, Hope not.

Nothing there shall mend.

 

Broken is the faith, the love.

Shattered like their many dreams. 

The things I’ve seen, to speak of.

Would ignite the world aflame.

 

The words I speak, Are not my own.

Arose to soulless laughter. 

As host I serve, a stepping stone.

A pestilent fate, Thereafter.

 

His thoughts are overwhelming.

At the point of no return.

A wicked grin, we fly.

“This city, this world. Will burn.”

 

Fear is not inside me.

For he is in control.

He learned no fear, restraint.

We are euphoric, as a whole.

 

I’m winning this battle inside my mind.

This feeling, overpowered.

Lifetime views disinclined.

That night- In blood I showered.

 

He didn’t use me, he gave a gift.

Of individualism redefined.

You cannot truly find yourself.

Lest you become violently unconfined.

 

We are one, this being of hate.

Satan’s work we’ll acquiesce.

Minds like mine, he’ll procreate.

Great army’s he’ll posses.

 

Befriend the voice inside your head.

The one that sings: Devastation.

Right and wrong soon condescend.

Selfish, destructive insinuation.