Big Black Book

If I must I would inscribe my feelings down onto a diary.
Where pain meets symbols and symbols meet pain.
I want to write with hellish ink into the crumbled paper.
Not to let it burn but for the memories to suffer in hurt again.
Die all over again in what I have become.
Never to let go again in this magika or gothica touch.
This diary of pain will be a bible to cuts and bruises.
Rip the pages out like frustration in your own hair.
Eat them up and taste every inch of ticklish ink.
But unfortunately the ink is as black as most hearts are.
An epic delusion makes a place for everyone in the war.
Used to be meant to see wanted to freed in death for anyone.
The diary will be judged by its cover because thats how people are.
Give one look and turn the other way not ready to chance.
To them Ill be the unknown but to myself Ill be an unknown soldier.
Ask the book the questions where I'm writing down the answers.
Never mind time wont stop a dime for choosing fate.
Author and writer praise a comment just once in the book.
Thank the unknown for the dark inspiration.
Be brought or let not a book of be written out of thoughts.