| Notes: Written at 10pm, so. Eh. Kinda senseless? Oi. Inspired from another Stabbing Westward song! WHEE! Go
SW! Anyway! From Knives point of view, as if it wasn't obvious. Typed oddly, but I like. |
It echoes. His cries as he watched her die. We were so young then.
He didn't understand. I had to do it. She ruined everything.
She was merely an obsticle, and I overcame her, just like any other.
But it haunts me. His cries for her to return. His cursing me.
His pleads for me to bring her back.
But. She. Will. Not. Die.
He refuses to let her. Her spirit dwells. And it haunts me.
Its haunting me for the deed - no, favor - of killing them.
All of them. ... He still doesn't understand.
His compassion for them sickens me.
His sentamentalism only grows by the day.
Whatever compassion I had for them, whatever little amount of it that
they worked so hard to install in me, is dwindling.
When it fades, they will too. All of them.
I. Will. Make. Him. Forget. Her.
SW! Anyway! From Knives point of view, as if it wasn't obvious. Typed oddly, but I like. |
It echoes. His cries as he watched her die. We were so young then.
He didn't understand. I had to do it. She ruined everything.
She was merely an obsticle, and I overcame her, just like any other.
But it haunts me. His cries for her to return. His cursing me.
His pleads for me to bring her back.
But. She. Will. Not. Die.
He refuses to let her. Her spirit dwells. And it haunts me.
Its haunting me for the deed - no, favor - of killing them.
All of them. ... He still doesn't understand.
His compassion for them sickens me.
His sentamentalism only grows by the day.
Whatever compassion I had for them, whatever little amount of it that
they worked so hard to install in me, is dwindling.
When it fades, they will too. All of them.
I. Will. Make. Him. Forget. Her.