You're so beautiful. I stand here before you as you sleep, reveling in the moment, basking in your awful radiance. The chains and collars we played with when we were young and wild and brimming with desire have become shackles; I've bound you to the four posts of your bed so that you'll never be able to break free. Trapped, you are, shackled and tied like a disobedient slave, and yet you are godly... Always, my love, was I the creator, and you the destroyer. I cleansed the wounds you were dealt when you fought your petty wars, I cried rivers for your soul when it seemed you lacked one. But you did have a soul beneath your unforgiving appearance, a beautiful soul - a side of you known only to me. And that is what bound us together. Though as different as the light of the heavens and the darkness of hell, we fit together perfectly. You know, I would have very well died for you. We were friends, brothers, lovers - in love in every sense of the word. But as the years passed, that warm furnace burning deep within you was diminished by the toxic floods of temptation and avarice, and soon I was not enough. It was I that you first unleashed your mordancy upon. You shoved me away when I tried to comfort you, you hit me when I angered you. You forced me to do things that no one should be forced to do. I cried for us both in those days. Still, I was not efficient; I was merely the beginning. The burgeoning demon inside of you metamorphosed you into a stark and barren wasteland and you became a true destroyer - devouring the spirits of those you once loved, lying to them and manipulating them until they were too damaged by you to even speak your name. I tried with every particle of my soul to put a stop to the catastrophe that you had become. You would not have it. You chewed me up and spit me out, throwing my raped and beaten body to the ground. Bleeding, I watched in horror as you brought hell to Earth in a manifold of forms. And in those times, those dreadful days, as I saw you set fire to everything you'd ever known, it suddenly became frighteningly clear that all my prayers, my tears, my hopeful efforts fueled by love, were nothing but futile attempts to hold on to the boy I once knew. To demolish the raging apocalypse that you've since become. However, you shall not reign victorious. You could never seem to remember, dearest, that you reap what you sow. I tried to save you with love, to no avail, but did you think I'd give up on you? I'll save you yet. Your eyes flutter open and rest upon the blade in my hand, poised steadily above your throat and glistening with severity, and your lips contort from the relaxed frown of cold serenity to the grimace of a dry scream, voluptuous in their horror. My love, my ravishing cataclysm, my beautiful Antichrist... This is your salvation.