Blood is the only story I can tell.
For a fragile and damaged brain gives no cure,
and either chooses chaos or new birth.
My soul was the only currency I could sell.

Now I am empty and unleash the monster within.

So, deeply, I fell in love with slashes of red.
I gave no mind to life or death and thus
laid my wrath to carnage, sinning again and again.
And by my mirth, released the hungry wolves.

I was exulted at the sight of them.

After, I traveled to the brink of Hell’s chasm.
Staring into the pit black as obsidian, I jumped.
Torment and misery had been my only companions
and in the face of great heretics, I was welcomed home.

I was born from sin and so stained from the beginning.