I'm dancing on glass,

and every broken piece is one of my demons.

I stopped fighting back,

against my morals, committing treason.

We breathe as one now,

on which side of the war, I'm not quite sure.

Good and evil tend to grey,

when of your sight, the demons obscure.

The deeper the glass cuts,

the better the demons and I tend to get along.

Yet the closer we grow,

the longer the nightmare seems to prolong.

The demons are taking over now,

beside the angels, I never really belonged.

Just remember my laugh,

when I pay for everything they've done wrong.