Body soul and mind.
Only fragments and slithers.
Did I leave behind.
Chipped in ways that'd see you in quivers.

If hell were real.
I could have taken you there.
Make you know the pain I feel.
The same twisted fate we now share.

I asked the man before he chipped.
"What is it they plan to do with all this knowledge?".
He had no words, only a smile that grew until it flipped.
The man before me now, a monster thriving on carnage.

666 men I asked this question in plea.

666 men born just for me.
To torture and rip body from soul.
On the quest for more to see.
Now monsters that feed on the foul.

666 monsters now with no glory.
Each used and tossed aside.
Not even a character in the great story.
666 men I know all their names, each who died.

665 men none who spoke.
Just that evil smile.
The 666th man i did provoke.
He spilled words by the pile.

"They use the knowledge to control the population."
"To leave a foul taste and a dull sensation."
"To propagate purposeless life."
"Until only pain and sorrow run rife."