what you don't understand take the blade from the child's hand all the petty lies and the jealous whores matter little and leave me bored Repent, Remorse, Revenge
Deep in this blackened void, the space that used to be my soul no ray of light no hope has shown there in the darkened cold. In time memories and pain
the Love turned to Hate, the blade is in too deep and your repentance comes too late. Oh wits misery, the madness of your stay. The best revenge, a
