There is something inside me.
A desolatley hungry creature.
A dismally dismayed soul.
It cries for abhorrent satisfaction.
An abominable thirst for massacre.
Oh horrendous love of death.
This macabre fascination that lives within my very core.
Oh why must this morning sensation exist within my being?
For how long must I indulge this beast?
Will my sould attain a type of peace or have I already been condemned?