Oh, the way you curl up on the bed and cry tears of sorrow; it kills me, it really does, for I am the cause and I know nothing of the pain. Your frail being lies so near within my fingers but I am trapped by iron bars — bars I try to break but cannot, and I know why.
I am the sort of evil you refuse to let through.
Oh, my dear, forgive me, for I promised you great wonders and freedom from the iron bars that you seek so desperately to uphold. I tell you that they are not needed, that they do the opposite of what you want them to do. Yes they block out the evil, yes I concede, but the bars you put are so thick, so strong, that they block out the light as well, and all you have left is darkness.
And darkness is where evil looms.
The mind is a scary place, I know. But the mind in the dark is worse.
I promised you salvation.
And for that, I am sorry.
Because salvation lies within the white building’s hands, not mine. And all I can offer you are promises I cannot keep and red-rimmed eyes that cry over this fate.
The iron bars are evil but you will not listen to me, but that is not what I fear most.
My greatest fear is if you break free through those iron bars and come face to face with me,
the true evil.
And today that fear has come alive.