He walks in the white endless corridors that is his mind.
Claws like the high and mighty lion and teeth like an air splitting sword. It's spiraling madness is all you will find, in his mind. He's seen war's horrors. He's walked on corpse forged floors. And he's been in the reapers's shores.
He is caged from freedom, as he is forced to live in that white room. His rage is what flows through his deepest of rooted veins, who are swollen in constant yells of evil.
The hordes of humanity is what once guided him with the warmest blankets of love and care. But his demons that hid in his most deepest of mental layers, have massacred those emotions and danced in the blood.
The flood of violence that pours out of the man keep him from being civil. It's the evil monster of his torn past that keeps him in his mental jail, he is the sweetest of honey. That fell from the beehive, into the merciless ground. Under the rejection of society, under the business man's shoes. He found something new. It greeted him at his presence.
It was the master of persuasion, it's perfect equation of violence was taught to the man. The man learned that no nation could tell him who he was, he did not need an explanation for the trail of corpses behind him. Because as love evaporated in him, the rose of hate grew in his heart.
He is the station of spiraling madness, but his madness is not madness. It's the zombie of his sadness he had in the streets when he was rejected when he returned. He's mad at the world for the wrong it did to him. And he is caged for it.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
