Inside me there lives an urge.
The human equivalent of a power surge.
I have no control over when it chooses to emerge. 

When it rears its head.
Well, people have often said that ones' temperament changes its shade.
Outsiders and onlookers should be very afraid.
"Its color?" I hear you ask; red. 

There is a transition that takes place: I see a mist.
That is impossible to resist.

It descends and sits just in front of my eyes.
This can lead to someones' demise
I thrive.
Upon my victims strangled cries.
Negativity and depressive thoughts always make me feel alive.
I love to torment and terrorize.
If torture were to become a competitive sport, I know that I would win first prize.
Screams and howls; these are my glistening moon, my burning sunrise.

I long to cause immense pain.
To create what I hope will be an everlasting blood stain.
Each and every time for my own selfish gain.