Inner Anarchy/Wicked Ways

It's been brutal, scary even, not speaking out
Feelings locked-up, stored away, painful without a doubt

Yet no one knows; no signs ever seem to show
The pressure builds, a volcano at it's peak, soon ready to blow

They can't be aware, nobody should
It feels too private, too personal, too vulnerable to be understood

I'm cut-off, bleeding, all alone
Isolated, distant, waiting in the unknown

I'll remain in the shadows, unmoved, never flinching
Vigilant, cautious, if ever listening...

...To the thoughts, the voices, the conscience inside my head...
...Otherwise, I would be lifeless, underground, rotting, long-gone: dead...