You
are poetry in motion, my perfect little doll.
I've
seen your every notion,
but
you have naught, and all.
I
can't stand to see you loved, by the one that could save your soul.
I've
every right to kill you,
You
know you've paid the toll.
Why
can't you just die, and why can't you just break?
I
have the every right,
your
mind, and soul to take.
The
one that loves you purely, is the one I want to taint.
You
have the gall to call him,
you're
lover, and your saint.
Just
as I wrap your fate, my dearest poppet.
You
break my precious strings,
and
scream for me to, 'stop it'.
You
protect him, and shed tears for his lost life.
But
you know it's a fruitless attempt.
For
he has cause naught but strife.
You
sneer at me, and look away as you show the no more demon lines.
I
smile pitifully as I sweep away,
You're
eyes, they once again shine.
I
cover my brokeness with a mask of rage, and hate.
So
why do you taunt me so?
That's
right, you are a clean slate.
I
envelope myself with darkness, and I die enfolded with the rain.
I
hope you've learned your lesson dear boy,
You're
just like me, now that you've slain.
Do
not listen to him, please my foolish dearest child,
You've
sealed your fate with me.
You'll
go to hell, to be trialed.
I despise your perfect happiness, and I hate your every move. Come to me my darkness, and I shall take and soothe.