The pain—
It's my favorite plaything.
Their eternal suffering,
A haunting melody to my ears.
Pleas and desperate begs,
Fall on my deaf ears,
Feeding the void inside me.

Another day,
Another pair of bloodied palms.
I lick the dried crimson,
The sweetness lingers on my tongue,
And yet, I hunger for more,
Fueling my wrath, insatiable and wild.

Their terrified expressions,
Only make me laugh harder.
I love how they kneel,
Heads bowed,...