I see no happiness, unless I am gone away. The bell tolls on, it is for me it rings. I see His hand, see Him reach out. No one seems to care that this is all a game. We dwell in self-made darkness, and despise, yet delight in pain.
Blackness moves in over tormented souls, who are too weak to fight, too ignorant to know.
It will all come to end in death and hurt. Only then will people learn - when you crash, you burn. They did it to themselves and themselves will they mourn, for once the line is crossed never again will the tables turn. They will be left suspended, with only their lies for comfort, and being forced to see truth they will plummet. The line is crossed, the table turned.