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in my desolate room
no lights
no music
just anger
disgust
hate
distaste for life
but the joy of living
is only felt
when i kill
and i feel better
i am loved,
loved by many,
hated by more, (though that isn't of much concern)
dancing to life's twisted flute has drawn me numb, desensitized
hell came for me, and i put it out
i see this flower field
and the only way i know is paved in bloody ash
all that is real is annihilation
all that is weaker must die by the steel of my hands
for there is no other way
uproot the tethers of life and humanity
lest thou be taken by it, consumed by it.
there is no end to it.
if i don't take, i will have nothing, and they will take more.
Copyright ©
Ramael Vosem
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