You behold a beast that lives inside your darkened mind,

You hold a creature that preys at darkest nights.

You go to sleep in sight but to sleep you shall never go,

Your raging spirit aches to swallow souls.

You are a killer.

The life you live, shaken, tremulously.

Demented souls you devour meticulously.

The blood you sip from the skulls relentlessly.

Sins of joy, sins of joy.

You are a killer.

The poor children cry, the poor children cry.

You never hear but yet you listen.

You swallow swords; you swallow blades as the sun it shines.

You utter words of encouragement and hide your face from the light.

You are a killer.

You act as brave as the knights of Templar,

And slice your blade in a stranger.

You shape a world of delightfulness and stump on it.

You are a killer, you are a killer.

A poem about the bad things we do