Formerly known as Lucifer's Sanity.
Dark imagine with the essence of hate, fluff, chaos, betrayal and love.
Have you ever thought of the consequence of a playful wish?
"Dad, I want a Beast for myself!" 4-year-old Raya gushed like a puddle to her dad...
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Run.
Chase.
Hide.
Scars.
Blood.
We run from our demons because they can paint us with the ugliest of shades, bare of our guarded thoughts. They rip away your faux concealment of a glimmering cape of goodness.
Once you start running from your demons they chase you to hunt.
No matter how much you hide, your scars will take you back to the haunting den of distress and pain.
And you bleed your nature.
When the demons take hold of your chains, they bare you of your heartless thoughts.
Take pleasure in showing them your ruthless mind.
Take triumph in your failure of control.
The demons we are afraid of taking control dwell deep in our bones. They showpiece our primitive nature. The unforgiving, merciless ruthlessness that sometimes seeps into our eyes is a volatile emotion for that particular person.
They bring out the persona of our ugly demons we are afraid of letting others peek. Grate against your soul like knives on a bottle. Make you clench your teeth to shove away the restlessness they sprinkle on your skin.
How ironic is it that they make you feel alive? Give a prominence rush of raw emotions, so primal and strong. A bleeding pain of memories haunting with an agonised pleasure.
"Arghhhhhhhhh," a soul-splintering growl meteored into my ears and I clenched my eyes close as I walked away from his cries.
The night was a miserable ride into the depths of hell, burning my resolve and charring my sanity. A cold shudder raked my spine at the thought of the agonised pleas of him.
His yearning.
His begging.
And there he said he saw the once sweet, kind-hearted girl still in me. The bitter facts of reality didn't get to him. But the truth was he didn't want to trust me until he saw the ruthless woman I was made into. The cruelty sowed in my bones and deep-rooted in my nerves.
But I cried.
I cried a million tears for the agony I put him through.
His traumatised cries for me made me bleed into tears.
