Creature of the Dark

"Prey, be shameful,

Pray to sin,

Prey be fallen

Pray to me…"

Pr[a/e]y

Thus the witching hour begins,
Beware the man that smiles in the dead of night,
He looks like a man, walks like a man,
Talks like a man, hungers as a wolf.

His smile might fool you, for in the dark...
A grin is mistook for a smile,
A howl for a whisper,
And tearing of the flesh for a caress.


You see, the dark is our friend,
The shadows pretending to be human,
Gentle with the wolves,
And all the beasts that hunt at night.


Such are our ways,
These are our pleasures,
Unspeakable our yearning
For in the dark we thrive.

Ramblings

What a beautiful day, what a life to have... Living on the edge, but who does manage to see just what it means? The edge of life itself, edge of sanity, edge of reason, edge of nothingness and despair.

Another day gone without sense or reason, a day that passed and no one will remember it. It's funny, if you ask me, it's just a day closer to death. A death that bides its time, slowly crawling towards me allowing me the pleasure and despair of studying it in each and every detail.

Oh, how I loathe the moment you will reach your destination, my accursed lover... Meanwhile I watch you come near, while I remain this perfect vessel of nothingness.