"Killing In Torment"
Through the deepest, darkest night,
came the sounds of a fight.
Horrid screams of intense pain,
cut through the fog again and again.
I laughed at my merciless ways,
and my victim crouched on his knees in a daze.
I am the Goddess of Death and No Mercy,
and that is all I ever wish to be.
And I delivered the final blow,
and the blood froze in the snow.
I laughed again, amused at it all,
another mere mortal had to fall.
None of them were strong enough to face me,
and most found out that I was deadly.
Not some kind of silly game,
no, it involved too much pain.
I smirked and smiled, it was much too easy,
for I am the Goddess of Death and No Mercy.
In that moment I wished I could capture,
all those nights we spent in rapture.
It was all taken from me by some unseen gem,
so therefore why should I worship him?
Cry out, beg for my love to return?
Ha, no way, I'd rather burn.
I'll never worship, never drink of its tonic,
because, you see, it's too ironic.
To love and obey the one who took your love,
to worship an unseen force from above?
Ha, never. Never. I'd die first,
and that wouldn't be for a long time, so I quenched my thirst.
I was damned to roam the earth for my own sin,
until I began to kill again.
It was so nice, my blade held tight,
their necks were sliced and they put up little or no fight.
It was so sweet to drink of their pain,
especially when none of the blood was left in their veins.
It's the becoming, the end,
and I will rise again.