I'm setting in a empty room
tied to a chair while I hear ticks and tocks take the form of thunderous booms
staring at the wall through the looking glass is a demon... my demon.
Looking me in the eyes, saying close your eyes.
What a relief it'd be,
letting it all go like a grain of sand
floating along, listless and bland.
as the tears fall, I think of a thought,
I'm already a decrepit being. A being that exists becouse of my insanity.
Or was it the cause; I can't remember.
it stares back, it's eyes the floor of drying blood
Looking with content, whilst waiting for me to fall into dissent.
Or let him take control and sleep peacefully.
How sadness would disappear, by the tick T
At one point, I feel like giving in. 
perhaps, maybe, this time it's his turn to win.