It must’ve been the blackest of obsidian
The bleakest of tragedies
That fastened your bones together
And tainted what could’ve been yellow

And Misery must’ve held a millennium thirst
When she drank from the Styx
And spit you onto the world
To poison the ones who taste of it

Because even the flesh of the cold blooded
Will glaciate into an iron snow  
Will freeze over like rotted autumn roots
At the reticence of your touch

Yes, there must have been some devilish prophecy
Spoken on the day that you ascended from the embers
The day the stars were misaligned
Off kilter and yearning to return to virtue

I’m sure that it must’ve taken a mountain of karmic cycles
Each more sinister, more corroded than the last
To shape the quiet vessel
That carries your deafening poison

Unequivocally—
Certainly—
Truthfully—

Threaded into the fabric of you was a venomous wound
And it bleeds and it bleeds and it bleeds
And you thrash and curse and wail into the nothingness
And we both know that even the nothingness pities you now

But I swear, hopeless one—
I swear I swear I swear
If not for fate
And the wickedness of your heart
I think that I would pity you too