Thirty years in the gutter of the soul,
Feeding the furnace, losing all control,
The bottle was the altar, the liquid was the priest,
I offered up my spirit just to satisfy the beast,
I watched the boy vanish in a sea of black bile
While the demon took the reins with a jagged,
hollow smile.
The sun comes up but the darkness won\'t fade,
I am the monster that the silence made!
I am the Demon Poet, bleeding on the page,
A lifetime of venom screaming from the cage,
When the light hits my back, the shadows start to crawl,
My demons follow close, waiting for the fall,
But I\'ll rip out my heart, let the story be the spark,
To lead a million broken souls out of the dark!
Now the ink is the blood I used to spill,
Writing down the crimes of a broken will,
I can\'t shake the shadow, I can\'t outrun the ghost,
I\'m the living warning, a reluctant host,
But if my scars can be a map for your escape,
Then I\'ll wear this crown in every twisted shape.