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
