An angel of death is how I feel inside,
But a devil of life is what I am on the out,
While what the world makes me feel about my pride,
Telling me I must do with what I am without.

Recognizable feelings of how life is,
But the way I feel living life by trying,
Lying to myself knowing I am not this,
And feeling like on the inside I'm dying.

Listening to the burning words of what they say,
Hearing them is why I am thinking,
Contemplating about their words on my bed as I lay,
When the angels of death take my life away.

So with the devils of life on my west,
And the angels of death on my right,
Thinking about my life nonetheless,
I am dying with the sight of the deadly angel's bright heaven light.