Crackened
I have just scratched the surface of my latent hatred
Of my blind, awe-inspiring, narcissistic, misanthropic, vehement self
In Flames draws it
As, I believe, Nightwish will
There is so much power here, my heart is stone.
But inside, oh how is it acerbic!
Corrosive, burning
It burns! I feel… the burn
It yearns to burst out
To… to kill
Do I mean that?
No, just thoughts.
Twisted, darkened thought.
Define me?
No, they do not.
The moment I turn this music off
I am out.
I am me.
But, right now, I am king.
A god, DO AS I SAY!
…and leave me be.
Desolate, forgotten.
Anything else is unsatisfactory
No… IT IS TORTURE.
So get away.
Get away!
Humans make me weak.
I acknowledge no pain,
only that which you give me
So leave!
Go, go now!
...and live.
It is all your fault,
it is all your fault!
My twisted, wretched existence
Bound by darkness,
Bound by rusted iron chains,
to this never-ending life
of pain, of misery, of anguish!
Escape? There is none.
Certainly not by your hand
You are foolish, you are human, and you are nothing.
How could you think us equals?
Don’t you see me?
Don’t you see my power?
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