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Torn by the hands of fate, a messenger of light.

That these two paths may intertwine is beyond the grip of time

A creature born of woes, a beast too strong for its own will

To lacerate himself is to never be himself again

Yet i stand, hand in hand with death himself.

A marionette of woes,

And she sees, the inner void so cold

Nothing matters to this beast

and nothing should , as he ever could

In pain, a suffering so deep.

And walls catch a glimpse of sickness so misleading

The horror now exposed.

In mirror shards and dreams, he senses dread from times to come

Long for illusions of the days so long ago

A calm before the storm, the anger building up inside.

Where she has made her bed, and suffers still the same

Yet i stand, face to face with shattered mind

A puppeteer so frail

And she feels, more than she would ever know

Nothing matters to this beast

and nothing should , as she ever could

In vain, a longing obsolete

Come and take me to your light.

I see the battles in your mind.

But i see nothing in your eyes

Like drops of poison, the shadow of a cloud

The beast will face himself, and longs to be defeated

Where once was clarity, the air fills with their misery

The scarred claws come out and preys upon its victim.

And with his words he took her breath away.

Atrocities, unspoken, yet so fragile

A final act of torment,

And darkness has ensued

And she was gone, like others before her

With a kiss and no goodbye,

A funeral without a grave,