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Where does this heart go,
when the blood runs cold in these veins?
Where does this rage go,
when actions turn to remorse?
What of the carnal desires of the flesh,
when all reason and logic are gone?

Why do these tears run red,
when the ice in my being shines blue?
Why is it I think of you,
even as I feed upon my prey?
Why can't I forget you,
as memories cripple my senses?

If I were an angel,
would my thoughts be any different?
If I were kind in spirit,
would I be any kinder to myself?
If I were wise,
would I not walk into his life?

Pain a familiar knife,
to this armored breast of war.
Pain like a migraine,
buried deep within this black soul.
Pain the reflection,
of a withered memory.

Eyes that look into my dark nature,
penetrating the illusion of strength.
Eyes like my own,
repeat emotions without the need for words.
Eyes I pray to forget,
as they forgive actions,
that this creature of moonlit blood cannot.

And I slump into this thrown of glass and nails,
chained to it by my own false protection.
I hold the keys to this prison.
Will your love for the beast
turn the key,
to let loose my passion?
To once and for all
set me free.