My finger throbbed, sliding red water splashing upon the slick topography, it was almost impossible to hide the laceration from these half-breed hybrids. Horns and ties, flesh costumes and ash shoes these monsters shifted between frames of realm breathers and daemonic vampirism. Cold cropped stares strung to petrify the weak hearted. She displayed elegant opulence in impervious form. Shadows among and behind me I could not touch her. Sadness dampens those cheeks of blush. If I could I would dry them but these minions of yours continue to bite my hand.
Can you hear my screams?
They tend to drown out your cries. Why are you hiding inside that mentality of flawed construct? Your lashes of sorrow blessed of the memories of a past swallowed by pride.
Look in the mirror, who is the most jaded of them all? Perhaps it is you who continues to bite my hand.
Without a tongue I no longer can scream, you made sure my words would be no more.
I only wanted to ask you if my heart still beats, or have you abolished it as well?