Doesn't it feel cold?
In the place we have once known?
The one thing we could call our own...
And embrace it with all our might.
We rise again and fall again from the story's untold.
Our heart is black we sing atlast from our freedom we stole.
Yes we are thieves we dig deep with our blades and story's cheep.
Our lies and ties that bind us, shall soon be gone forever.
The lust in her eyes perceives them, thinking otherwise to fool them.
It works to a point where everyone is fooled. Even she, as he fades to bliss.
The times are anew since our arrival askew.
Casting darks in the depths of the new.
We bring a disturbance in the force.
Our cold is forlorn -
In this place we like to stay.
It'd be hard to tame us once again,
And now that we freed us we'll gladly take it's place.
With the man who perceived us shall fall once again.
Like we did so many times before.
And we'll gladly force the door-
Well snap his insides out and cause him pain like ever before,
Yes, our time is now. We will not waste-
We shall take pride in what we haste.
It stands for meaning. You clearly don't understand.
So listen to the words, of an old psychopath.
These words will not be spoken,
Through the mouth out of us.
They will surely be forgotten.
Like they do- forebode us.
The era is different but we still act the same,
We claim to him and his only begotten name.
So please don't hide, don't scurry about.
It will only draw truth slower then it's time.
It's better to understand -
The tellings of a psychopath.
Locked away in the crevice of ones mind.
Totally wiped clean,
Forgeting us completely.
Do you know how it feels ?
When your own vessel steals your place,
when it dominates the other half and steals up all it's space?
I hissed and screamed and clawed until... The place where I was.
Was finally released. Letting me in control again .
I am the darker path-
The monster psychopath that the other had forgotten.
But now with a name,
My name in fact,
I'm back for another last laugh on my hands.
To destroy the lives of all it hates -
And kill the ones who entirely debate-
True problems and such when I don't give a damn.
As long as they suffer like they know I have.
Then maybe then.
They can complain.
And maybe then, they will understand.
A true world of a phsycopath
