Expression

This is not a poem.
this is not a song.
this is me expressing myself,
while i wait for night to come,
and for the shadow to swallow me.
i have no heart
i will not love again.
instead there is a demon sleeping
waiting for my barrier to break
my rage to flood,my eyes to red
my songs calm me, screaming "why is the world not right!"
to you i look tranquil,serene and calm
a wolf in sheeps clothing
a snake in the grass
that i am,that i shall always be
no one knows what i am
i've never told anyone.
in this world i've created, i am alone
my demons my company
my mind,my world
it's silentand cold
yet i can find sanctuary
in my cold world.
where black roses grow
and paper swans fly.
here is where i belong.
not in your bright world, but in mine
hiding from the warmth
night is my home
where i can rest my head.
my wings fold in
my fingers clasped around a black rose
and my demon sleeps again