Needs a fair bit of work i think but i also cant think of what to change.

A change in life, a new life.
A change in self, a new self.
The creation of perfect innocence.
But how greatly something so pure can change the routine is profound,
and you cannot have that.

The cure so easily found;
just a quick trip to a vile place of black twisted halls and morbid deceit.
At the end of one of these halls is the darkest of sillouhettes,
for there stands the angel of death.
With a smirk it sucks this innocence from you, your innocence.
A cold chill down your spine as the world averts its eyes.
You came convinced, you leave broken.
You came free, you leave condemmed.

As time passes you cannot bare to recall that figure,
that vile place.
For now relax.
Eventually you will again visit halls twisted and black.