You behold a beast that lives inside your darkened mind,
You hold a creature that preys at darkest nights.
You go to sleep in sight but to sleep you shall never go,
Your raging spirit aches to swallow souls.
You are a killer.
The life you live, shaken, tremulously.
Demented souls you devour meticulously.
The blood you sip from the skulls relentlessly.
Sins of joy, sins of joy.
You are a killer.
The poor children cry, the poor children cry.
You never hear but yet you listen.
You swallow swords; you swallow blades as the sun it shines.
You utter words of encouragement and hide your face from the light.
You are a killer.
You act as brave as the knights of Templar,
And slice your blade in a stranger.
You shape a world of delightfulness and stump on it.
You are a killer, you are a killer.
A poem about the bad things we do