If it were you shunned like I.
Would you rush to become as low as me.
To become:
As hated.
As loathed.
As feared.
Would you reach out with pitiful hands.
That. I. Do. Not. Need.
Reach my level, child.
Have you been there?
Have you seen?
The friends you once loved.
Spit now at your feet.
So welcome to the level.
Of a madman such as I.
For once their is no pity.
You know!
What made me.
It was your azure eyes.
The color of the sea.
You see?
Eyes which follow my every gesture.
Lips that smile so easily.
But only now.
Your smile does not come so quick.
And your eyes finally notice.
All those things you first missed:
The sorrow.
The lonliness.
My pain.
But also now you see!
You see my love for you.
