Anger inside me spewing out,
My lust to kill is longer contained.
Little boy, young and fragile,
Lured into his dark demise,
With welcoming hand I present myself,
And murderous intent I take him.
Walking down the street at night,
His eyes wide with curiosity,
And thoughts of who I might be,
He soon realizes what my hand was offering,
A Glimpse at his first site of death.


Just the beginning of a poem. I don't really know where it will turn out,
but I will try to make the interactions and "scenes" a little more clear
later on. C&C always welcome.
 
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