In the recesses of my mind,
Words they form, and words, they bind.
As I'm in a search for more,
I find the thoughts my mind has stored.

I wanna write a poem,
One that's really nice,
My brain, I really owe 'em,
For, thoughts come at a price.

A price of sadness, lust, and grief;
Maybe it'll hurt us less without those we feed.
But how can we hurt less,
If we only satisfy their greed?

If acknowledged by you, son,
Your sorrows will surpress.
If not over, ended, done,
There'll be [an] ache upon your chest.

An ache because you miss her,
An ache because she's gone.
You want your pain to end,
Before another [demon] spawn.

You go to the lakeside,
Your fears; you wish to reside.
Now since you know you've cried,
You're no longer gifted pride.

Jump! -into the water.
Sink! -into the waves.
Scream! -holler, and wallow,
As the lake forms you a grave.

A casket for your memories,
A place where you can rest,
I hope you will remember me,
Thinking nothing but the best [of me].

Now it's over.
Now you're done.
You know you love 'er,
[Your] demons won.

[Here's] to the pain,
That caused you such strain;
The demons forced their reign, now;
I hope you soon will live again, in your new life form; Sealain!

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