Psycroptic

Killing for the music and the music kills his pain-Psycroptipath
mentally he's screaming as his life drives him insane
-Psycroptipath
judgement reigns upon him from those higher in the chain
-Psycroptipath
urges burning deep inside to go against the grain-Psycroptipath
They take it all away, those drones who control his life
programmed to deaden his soul,
those dressed in suits taking hold
masters of his life, though only nine 'til five,
day is just as the night, each day as it ends, it is only the start
returning from that place, he again becomes alive
enters a place called home, to rest his bones
turns to his music device, brings it to life
It fills him– soothes his soul
Hears the blast, feels the beat, soaks in grind– cleans his mind
echoes the scream, grips his seat, feels his heart-beat faster
he's so warm-but unstable-his rhythms changed-a beat unleashed
Something's flowing ten-fold when he does this every night
-Adrenaline
over-active substance makes reality insane-Psycroptipath
blindly he's controlled by fluid flowing in his veins-Unnaturally
mentally he's swimming in a psychopathic dream– Psycroptipath
now a summoning, seduced by a stirring, revenge is his mask
feels the dark urges to kill, it excites him so
he will not be calm, until he sees the flow
leaves his home and slips into the darkened nighttime,