She was tired from it all. The pain of her emotions, the strength she
had to use to procrastinate the bitter end, the bloodshed in her mind,
constantly reminding her of her own fears, and the loneliness. The
complete isolation itself was a challenge for her, seeing as how she
had only ever felt half a person with no one else by her side to see
her great achievements of valour, dexterity, and unselfish empathy.
But no, she must continue this empty quest, ostensibly leading
nowhere. She owed it to him. Though it seemed utterly hopeless and
perhaps even somewhat idiotic, she was determined to apprehend the
truth, whatever the consequences were.

The night she left, the wind blew strangely and the world seemed a
darker, more sinister place than before. As far as she was concerned,
the only person she had ever any love for, the only person she felt
had any good in them, this one person that meant more than a thousand
of the people whose lives she had taken, had been the only good thing
in her life, her one purpose and meaning for being. He was gone, but
she had learnt much from him. Now she would never kill mercilessly for
she knew everyone deserved a little consideration. She could not kill
innocent people such as children for he had shown such respect for all
living beings, and so she had changed for him. Yes she still killed
when she had to for he understood that nature had intended us to live
and for new life to come into this world through the deaths of others.
Without death, there can be nothing for the new life to thrive on.

The Utter Destruction of Love... and the Allegiance to the Self

Why? Why did she have to suffer so? Had she not been there for the people around her, whom she cared for? What had she done to deserve unhappiness such as this?

She wept quietly, alone and disturbed. Confusion mixed in with hurt, anger and despair ran through her mind and through her heart; desperately trying to cling onto her to make her see that this world is a cruel one, filled with the evil of six billion or so people.

What difference could she possibly have hoped to achieve? A single electron in a billion atoms, a microscopic dot in a cheap, smutty painting. This is what she was; just another insignificant person, that was born, shall live quite uneventfully, then die...only to be brought back to this forsaken place none the happier. So what the fuck did she think she could have done? Did she really think that such a pathetic person, such as herself, could make the slightest bit of difference to this Hell?
No, she was crazy to believe it, utterly mad and psychotic. What a fool she had been. No longer would she live this terrible lie, this absolute rubbish that had somehow been rotting away in her mind, stinking up her life and clogging up her emotions and feelings. No longer would this continue to pain her.
If love is blind she had gone far beyond that. Her five senses had definetly been dormently asleep for a long time now and at last they had awoken.
She could taste the sweetness of revenge, hear the sounds of utter chaos, smell the bitterness of complete destruction, see the joy of un-tamed deception, but most of all, feel the sensations of angellic lust.

My Silent Plee

Aching to feel your breath once more against my worthless soul,
Longing to be the one you turn to once more,
Hopelessly I sit here and wonder,
Could I have acted differently; could it have been something you could adore?


Trying to fit pieces back to the way they were,
Difficult when you've lost the picture on the box,
Struggling to wear the brave face,
When pieces are missing, it's too hard to trace.


My silent plee insists on haunting my soul,
As time goes by, the pain continues,
While the world goes on around,
Ever changing
Ever painful.