Look into the mirror, and you see eyes of hate, eyes of burning red rage...and hate...and hate...loveless, loveless, loveless...

Eyes, sad and hateful, loveless and miserable...

A hazy gray, like a storm, the tempest of unspeakable violence...

Loveless, loveless, loveless...

And there is a maniacal laugh, that tears from the lips of one who has toiled in her lifetime...seen more violence than anyone, living and dead...

An end, all those eyes wants an end...

Cheating death, centuries and centuries, seeing those dear fall before those hurt-filled eyes...

And death is cheating back, waiting with open arms...cold, open arms that speak of final solace...

Whispers in the wind, but it is more than clear that it is a spoil of insanity...

A hand, pale and youthful, holds something up, shining with brilliance of being shined too many times to count, hungry for the thrill of parting skin—there is a quick, excited flash, a shriek of joy, a spurt of flying red—

The eyes, a hazy, hazy tempest devoid of warmth, shine crazily before glazing over with the frost of eternal rest...