In my cold dark shrine.
I feel the hatred of millions.
I see into the face of the beguiled giants,
as they scorn and tear at my open wounds.
All I can do is look upon them and scream out in agony.
And have this hatred for them, but never could I take in my hands to do the
damage.

I look into the icy midnight sky, I see the moon bleeding in gloomy light
like a ghost's transparent shell.
On this cold summers eve, watch my eye's as you see them flare for there
torture.
I see there pain and yet it makes me feel no sorrow only joy, the joy of
seeing someones life destroyed, as mine was so long ago on an afflicted
night as this.
When I suffer as of now I feel no pain my feelings where ripped apart many a
year ago as a small child.

The feeling of uncaring has driven me into an apocolyptical visionare, All
that is feasible to me now is torture, as I look unto the burning streets,
I see murders, I do nothing just decrease to a state of euphoria Cancel out
the pain I truly want to feel but cannot.

All I can do is sit here in my state of hatred and feel your pain again and
again.
I want to see your face as you scream the same as I did.
I want to see your hatred rising again and again.
I want to see you die inside the same as I did.
Make you weaker than me, make you feel the uncaring for yourself, be an
emotionless puppet on these bloody strings of life.

Gaze into the voids of hell, as your eye's set ablaze fall unto those
undying words that have driven our souls into this inferno of ghastly
tortures.
I do hope you choose the right path.
My friend
 
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