It's ebony-black outside.
Something has broken the stars.
They glitter in small delicate fragments.
Demons dance in my mind
But the voice is my own.
In this realm between worlds,
I remember the past in fiery sequences
Being twisted by force
Being shaken by wind
In a world where colours swirl and dance
Out of the shadows
And into the darkness
So different, yet the same
I'd rather be wrapped up in the storm
Facing the demons
Than in a life of false angels.
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