Disclaimer: I don't own BlackWarGreymon.
In the night I ponder
My purpose, my meaning.
"Why was I made?"
I ask.
"What is my purpose?"
I wonder.
"And most of all,
Do I have a heart?"
I was made to destroy.
But it makes me feel
Empty.
My purpose is to kill
But it makes me hurt inside.
I cannot have a heart
Because I am not real.
But on some nights
When the moon is full
I think and I wonder
"Could my destiny
Lie elsewhere?"
"Could I have a purpose
Other than destruction?"
"Could I, after all,
Have a heart?"
But then I realize
It is all pointless conjecture.
I am death incarnate.
I am the embodiment of destruction.
I am a soulless killer.
Empty.
Hollow.
I am not real.
I have no heart.
And a single tear falls to the ground.