The Crimson

A realm of hell within our minds doth teach
Places that even the darkness cannot reach
More sinister than death in our final hours
We are given life, and all that it empowers

Society is driven by all the mass confusion
Cries for help muffled with each drawn conclusion
Diseases of our mind decided by our peers
Depression taking toll after many years

Finally reaching out, only this time for the gun
Turns it on himself knowing what he's done
The crimson blood flows from his cerebral cavity
He never measured up to what we wanted him to be

Dixie