Our Dilemma

When you think your friends,
Are there until the end,
But, really, they condescend, themselves.

I tend, to treat others like demons.
Because I know our worlds, within,
Collide with ourselves.

I send,  my mind to beacon them.
Like fires in the distance.
I like to drain the wells.

I pretend,
Your friends are not my friends,
Because they are so bent,
On causing hell.

If you win,
I hope it's time well spent.
Because I just need to vent.
I'm setting sail.

Ill pay the rent,
But I'm not your friend.
I think I'll hop the fence,
To the holy grail.