Eternally Abominated by what lives inside, I feel of Death incessantly, until I
become Death Incarnate.
Victim of a Desperate Mind, my core was long ago corrupted.
And the Past is Alive.
Alive in my Blood;
Alive in my Mind;
And printed in my heart.
For there is no forgetting, there is no forgiving, there is no turned pages, just scratched ones.
And then you write over them, again and again.
Therefore, when it all ends, you will still see what was written there, at first.
It doesn't matter for how long you will try to run from it, or even how fast you do.
Fighting is Useless.
Acceptance is the best way around, for an enemy invisible.
