Massacre, Am I

And so, here you are in the massacre now.
Look around you, go ahead and take a bow.
Too caught up in sorrow to beg for release,
Left here with not but this stark, tragic piece:

"Where have I gone, how can this be?
What is causing me such dark misery?
When did this happen, all this to me?
Who is this whisper and scream that I see?
So far gone am I, I can't see my heart,
But can now feel it's pieces ripping apart.
Oh this pain, oh this horrid, treacherous pain!
Make it stop, cut the blood from this infected vain!"

Oh, you don't know what is making you ill.
You kept it in far too long, it is now instilled.
Paralyzed within and bottled with sorrow,
Wondering if you shall sting life tomorrow.

"I want it to stop, this is driving me mad!
Why is this massacre on to be had?
Go away, go away, whatever you are;
A tear, a loss, a slit, vacant star.
I hate it, I hate me, I hate this and, why?
I don't even know what it is that I cry.
I just cry, and I scream, and I hang my head.
Shall I shine burnt smiles, and laugh instead?"

No, this massacre will strap you down.
And gasping for life, you kiss to it a frown.
So let this now be a lesson to all:
Not one shall be hurt if one does not fall.