‘Fight your demons’, you constantly tell me,
‘Fight as you’ve fought over and over before’.
But you must know the war’s ultimate fee
Was to forever become insanity’s whore.
I lost that fight, I crushed and the demon
Devoured all the reality and logic in me.
Here I am now – sick, passionless crone,
Young body, old mind, no will to be free.
I have no demons inside left to be fought
And no burning desire to clear my head.
Insanity’s edge was first cold, and then hot –
I didn’t fall, I dove over in it right ahead.
You couldn’t have stopped me – why try?
About the deranged we don’t give a damn.
I’m one of them now – should I beg, should I cry?
I lean before the mirror – before the madness of man.