The art of ****** is poetic.
I'll stab her until she is empathetic.
I'll carve her lies into her with a dagger.
For she is such a braggart.
I'll make her pay for her faulty mistakes.
She is my enemy, I'll throw her dead body in a lake.
Like thorns on a rose, I will pierce her skin.
Forgiveness will never enter me, for I am pure sin.
******, ******, ****** is repeated in my brain.
Everyday I'm becoming more insane.
I would like to make her bleed out internally.
I will laugh when she bleeds out externally for eternity.
Hell is where she belongs.
This ***** will write her wrongs.
Sorrow is her best friend, and love is her worst enemy.
Cursing into the heavens, I call this pure blasphemy!
She's psychotic!
I'm looking down on her, she has a gun to her head, fortunately she has already cocked it.
Ready to die she kisses death.
And a kiss of death shall be her last breath.
But she will enter heaven and I will not.
For I am evil and she's angelic, she will fly like an angel, and I will rot.