You call him father?

The bastard

Blind rage is what I feel

I am the one who must kill him

My fists clench tight

I dream of beating that damn face of his

I live to see him suffer

Anger in my eyes

My teeth drag against each other

As I dream of the feel of his blood

I want him dead

He created me

The pain I feel deep

I would have loved him

Had he not

Been so cruel to me

My forms change

However

I hate my true one

For it looks like his own face

I punch the mirror

Letting glass cut me

My blood drips on the ground

His blood

My blood

I step on it and squash it

Dreaming of his face.

My father

He was worthless

What does That Person see in him?

I see his face in my reflection

I change to this young form

I grimace and I finally decide

His two sons

My half-brothers

They will be That Person's next targets

But for me they'll be a hunt

She says not to hurt them

But, one can always make a mistake

I will rip their flesh

And watch them bleed

As I watch their helpless gaze

They will scream

I will revel at the sound

And I will tear them from ear to ear

All will fear me

those

Of his blood

Of his relation

Of his friends

All will die at my hands