This is my first ficcy. Be gentle~
I don't own Claymore. Duhhh!
How I Truly Feel.
They build us up to break us down,
never caring or loving.
What they do to us...
it's inhumane. But they call us the monsters.
I've been chopped up and fallen apart.
My first life ended with youma tragedy.
My second began with youma pain.
Our silver eyes mark us, my sisters and I.
No matter what assurances are made I'll probably die tomorrow.
You humans don't even know. You couldn't even imagine.
The pain. The sorrow. The terror of my very existence.
One day. One day the youma will be defeated and the land will no longer need us.
Then we can lay down our swords and be free!
Heh heh how'd I do?