The sun will bear no more comfort for you.
As the moon rises, all your fears will come true.
The gates of hell have been opened and you’re in the queue.

It’s been a long time coming for what you’ve accrued.
The monster that you’ve made is hunting for their food.
No good deed goes unpunished, and you’re overdue.

-

Do unto others is a bitch of a wolf
Disguised as a friend in a sweater of wool
Now it’s your turn to hear the yells

Maybe you’ll see an old friend in there
But, they’ll be too far gone to even care
Maybe after long, in their experience you’ll share

-

I like my imperfections.

-

It was far too easy dragging, you away.
The buildings that were full are now, cold and grey.
You’ve tossed everyone you love into the deep unknown.

All that’s left is a, withering
Shell of an impotent, head of being.
Hateful and petty, no, you’ll die alone.

-

Do unto others is a bitch of a wolf
Disguised as a friend in a sweater of wool
Now it’s your turn to hear the yells

Instead of friends I’ll simply bind you to chairs
I’ll beat you and choke you and then I’ll stare
As the Shadows possess you as well

-

You're dying here.
You're not going anywhere.
Did you die out there?
Proto-slime.