We meet again, the last time we spoke, I believe I was young, about the age of ten. I promised you a secret, and I thought it was deeply hidden, but you slid incognito without my permission. Wherefore art thou a stranger of mine keeping--at which hour thou art near mine own heart, at each moment, reaping. Every window has lost their blinds, and replaced with the kitchen table. The wood hangs distressed, and sorrowfully-- they pray in their heads waiting under the rubble.
Darkness, I must admit, the blood seeping through the cracks and the screams became a symphony. An ensemble that will be played before our collective agony. I confront you today, because I am deeply ashamed of my cowardly ways and unconscious thinking. When lives are at stake, you force my love to lose all feeling.
Every strike against my village appears to only strengthen our bond. That is why this must be our last encounter, because you see, you have killed them all. Farewell mine own h'rrid darkness, mine own monstrous conceit. Thou has't birth'd a savage within me.