Death of a Killer
I sit amongst burning roses, the blood of the fallen pouring out at my feet
My eyes widen in horror, how had I become this?
I am but a hollow shell, killing or not killing, it stays the same
I feel hate, only hate, and it burns like acid inside my heart
I feel soulless, as if I'd been devoured by a hungry demon
I watch as my hands swing a silver blade
And my body slaughters its prey
I hadn't even let the children live
But, I think, after what I'd done,
If I'd let the children live they'd be consumed by hate like me
I am a wanderer, and a killer
I have no home in any place, not even amongst my family
I'm forsaken, so why go on living?
Because I'm hungry
The one I seek, the one I kill for, I'm hungry
So empty, and hungry for his blood
I stand in a tangle of thorns, they cut me, but I do not feel
I have only been watching for a very long time
I killed him, the one I sought
So why do I still live?
I thought I'd be at peace, but no, killing never brings peace
I take control of my body, and weild my silver blade
But I only have one more life to take
As my blood pours out amongst the thorns, I smile
I don't believe anyone will cry for me
However, when I am reborn, perhaps I can make a better life
Or, maybe, I'm going to hell, too
Either way, it is up to the universe now
My life was never my own to begin with
So why did I continue living?
Hatred gives birth to cruel flowers
My hatred made me a killer, what will hatred bring to her?
The all-consuming emotion could be the end of anyone
So why do some live, and some die?
Why...?
My consciousness fades, and I see the last of my blood spilling out
Like petals from a decaying flower
And I think one last thought
It is over.