Release

They say that in the end of the world all our worst fears will be released. 

Our nightmares hold our deepest secrets and our inner demonic beasts,

And when they take over we're said to be possessed and brought to a priest,

Who rip apart what we are inside and beat us with a crucifix until we're deceased. 

Can we not be our basic form of animalistic terror?

Are we fixated on this behavior and treating it as an error?

It's unholy to arch in pleasure at the drop of the hot wax's pain.

Our pleasure is based on our inner needs that we release in games.

We dance in the rain with wet clothes sticking to our basic form,

Screaming out into the cold rain dripping from the violent storm.

Is there something wrong with enjoying ourselves in life?

Just because we don't agree on what's right doesn't mean we have to ignite strife. 

Our base core is an animal fighting for it's life and desires.

If that's a sin than, damn it all to hell, I'm a misfired gun who aimed for life,

But hit Death right in it's dying fire in the center of it's heart. 

Author's Note

It's pretty shitty, hahaha.