Madness of the pen

Cursed I am pushed between the grey area of the rich and my own madness,
Cursed I am having a peaceful soul that carries the weapon for its own demise,

Cursed are the ones that believed my lies of a utopia whom will join my fake utopia I created
Cursed are the ones that knew about the dagger my lies kept hidden, ready to strike

I descend into into this delusion that I can only describe as a poison cloud of pure chaos
While I descend I still keep walking forward not knowing where I am

Yet without thinking I walk, is it good? Is it bad? I wonder
Fatal blows that my mind had taken only fuelled my insanity that was ready to infect

I walk a path that has been called blasphemy,
I walk a path that denies reality,

I will reach out to the truth this world holds
I strike down my madness with a passion that had created it

There is no return, nor is there enter
My mind is all there is and yet there is nothing

My boredom that had turned into frustration turned into passion
Oh, pen that writes down my fate, let me descend even lower so I can finally ascend to my utopia