You tried; truly, you did.
To find a world apart from this one.
And you succeeded, certainly.
But this was never how you imagined it.
Maybe this whole venture was doomed from the start.
And, by seeking out something good,
You were struggling against fate itself.
Against the nightmare that was to be your existence.
You only wish that you could have known, at the time,
That everything would soon be okay.
That you needed it, even, to become who you're meant to be.
That you would love what you'd become.
And you would be your own undoing, in truth.
But only by falling so low could you ever rise so high.
Too easily, you molded yourself into what you hated,
Pressing until you'd forgotten the child you used to be.
And when a distant part of you whispers, that maybe you could stop the cycle,
You crush mercilessly, as if an enemy, or your dear little pet.
Because, even if the only shadow you'll never escape is your own,
You'll always know how good it feels to be bad.