Zealot

So I have no clue how my knuckles have become black and blue
But all the external pain fails to the gnawing aching inside
I've always known you would leave me like the morning's dew
And now I have waisted too many tears on you because it was you I confide

Life is typically known for handing you a shitty hand of cards
Thus, it is your job to primp and prime it to your standards
Now its my soul that lays dormant and is guarded
Because all of reality is backwards

Trust me, it's difficult to battle this zealot in my head
But try not to bring me further down then I already am
I took my life in my hands and merely shred
So please, hold your cynical tongues and cease your condemning