Your need for desperation to be loved has blinded you.

To me, you were once heaven's creation, but now, I can finally see that all you were was just a mistake in disguise.

This man you once knew is now the reaper's helper; death's right hand.

Tears begin to soak into the pillow, just as blood drips from the stained knife as if it began to cry. Whose blood is it? Could it be yours or mine?

The gala ball shall have its rusted gates wide open just for you, its music wrapping around you like a snake. Its notes will suffocate you until you turn downright blue. You won't notice that the musi...

It begins with despair, people who are not willing to deal with the pain. This thing acts like a dirty mutt, following its poor excuse of an owner everywhere they go. But this is what it wants, what i...