So he sits out in the shadowy night,
After his threatening fight.
And he breaks bit by bit,
As he recalls that paint,
That never seams to fade.
He looks up,
At the bright moon light.
Sits there staring,
No longer bearing.
And begins to cry out,
Wishing he could get out.
Colors devour him,
Both light and dark.
Of the pain that stained,
His once pure heart
Now lingers with so many sins.
He keeps calling out,
The thoughts still lurking within.
As the moon stays right by,
A viewer of his misery,
Till the end of the night
He whimpers soon break,
When he feels all right.
Until the next night,
When he's tired of those fights,
The ones were he tries to stay strong
Like the rest of the pack,
Yet he wishes he could go back,
To that no so bad old life.