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It starts with a whisper, quiet but clear,
The dark passenger speaks, it's something I fear,
Every step I take, it gets closer, it's near,
Feeding off my thoughts, the voice I can't steer.
I see her with him, and it builds in my chest,
The beast starts to stir, but I fight to suppress,
It's hunger, it's rage, it wants to possess,
It tells me to break him, and put him to rest.
I feel the tension, the pressure inside,
The urge is relentless, there's nowhere to hide,
It's clawing, it's gnawing, it's deep in my mind,
A sick, twisted hunger I can't leave behind.
The passenger speaks, it's soft, but it's loud,
"Make him regret it, put him in the ground,"
It's poison, it's venom, it's fueling the crowd,
The darker the thought, the clearer the sound.
I try to push back, but it's always right there,
The darkness inside me, it smells of despair,
It calls to me softly, like it's whispering air,
It says, "You're nothing without it, you're already bare."
My fists clench tight, but I'm holding the line,
The voice gets louder, like a curse intertwines,
"Strike first, don't hesitate, take what's mine,"
But I see her laugh, and I know it's a sign.
It tells me I'm weak, that I'm too soft,
That I should be breaking, tear him apart,
It wants to see chaos, the blood and the cost,
But I know this rage could tear me apart.
I'm shaking inside, I can't tell what's right,
The beast in my head, it wants me to fight,
But I can't lose control, I can't give up the night,
Because once I let go, there's no end in sight.
The urge twists, the darkness grows thick,
I feel it boil over, it's making me sick,
A whisper in my ear, "This is your fix,"
But I'm not the man who needs these tricks.
I look at her, she's caught in the play,
But the voice in my head just won't go away,
It's telling me, "Make him pay, make him pay,"
And I know deep down, that I'm losing the day.
But then I stop, for a second, I breathe,
I push the darkness down, I refuse to believe,
That I need this violence to feel like I'm free,
But it's still there, it's always with me.
She walks away, no blood on my hands,
But the dark passenger still demands,
It whispers, "Next time, you'll make your stand,"
And I know it's true, I'll never escape this land.