As the sounds of the morning,
Demand the sacrifice of the dreams,
He wakes up to the new nightmare,
Where the places and demons are same,
It just depends on him to please and appease,
Traverse the darkness stroking their giant egos,
Appeasing and submitting, he wears a mask,
Which fits him little too well most of the days,
Serves him well enough to charge through dark,
But somedays cracks appear, demons feel stronger,
Nightmares become a rite of traumatic experiences,
Where lessons are branded on his psyche to learn,
Yet, he persists, creating worlds within, nurturing,
Making stories for his amusement and entertainment,
Actively creating an escape from the nightmares of living,
Until at a certain point the line got blurred,
Whether he’s creating the stories and worlds,
Or are they keeping him alive to continue existing.