• My hand is itching for blood
    It is yearning for the feel of the flesh
    Warm and alive
    Writhing with pain
    Panic flashes before your very eyes
    as I slowly draw the dagger

    Gleaming, smiling in the dimly lit night
    Smiling at your fear, at the moon
    As I puncture the flesh

    Slowly, taking my time
    Warm liquid rushes past my cold, lifeless hands
    A dark red color
    What a beautiful sight


    You and your pitiful look,
    A very pained look,
    Yet, you still beg for your life,
    Like a dog