Was it my own will...?

an incomparable thrill...?

sending me straight unto one devils' illusionist skills?

Days wore enchanted masks shield,

nights conformed pleasantries to unimaginative shrills;

Held mine head high,

sure, enough to continue those sizeable lies,

brace this bleakness underneath own masqueraded cries,

stupidity of lonely fears kept mine within nightmare ride –

Who would believe,

a kid with a questionable history,

against age and honoree?

Slept unwell as weeks lingered on,

slowly walls scribbled 'here is not where you belong;'

Nothing could be this horrible on mine own,

gather what knowledge is to be taught,

this body displays no life bought.