Comments Inbox
| |
Mort De La Mort, The Death Of Death
There is something intoxicating about the absolute stillness of night
I am most at home, at ease, the tell-tale heart of a vampire
Indeed, I have never been anything but, born into this life a demon
Spawned into this life by hate and resentment
I have fed upon everyone I have ever known, everyone I can ever remember
All that was human in those around me, seldom have I not destroyed
I have been merciless, I have been death
Tonight, the hunter becomes the hunted and who would have known it
Magnificent a creature, a natural born killer, meeting her bloody demise
What was a heart of stone has now started beating to the sound of human dreams
I can only thirst for one thing, with satisfaction impossible elsewhere
Him, my reaper donned in perfect flesh
A powerful being that has broken me so entirely, I have been forced into mortality
I am a mere shadow of the monster I used to be
The tragedy that is seeing life with the hearts eyes, I offer myself to him completely.
I will not move, I will not run and I will not hide
Tear me to pieces like I have torn all I have ever encountered, I yearn for it
Every cell in my body begs for our final dance, the Waltz to my own demise
Now, to look upon you would be worth a thousand deaths, and I invite them all
Find me, take me, end me.
I will rest in the memory of your flawless face for eternity, as hell welcomes me with
open arms.
|
|
|