The road ahead is straight,
Passing through 'Brokenhopesville',
In auspiciously strait,
Shadowy deceptions,
No light shines through the roof of pines,
For here, the sun is blind.
Mama said, youth' are days of light,
But mine are blight,
Nights with no endings,
Bleak as it peaks.
In the heat of the conundrums
Friends like wax melts,
And as fiends pick on my soul,
I wet my bed with tears,
Like an incursion I feel change,
Creeping in on me,
I guess this is what you call 'mutation'
