With Death’s grim light
I walk the windswept forests of the lights past.
Fire held high in the Darkness of the Immortal.
In the grey false dawn
I walk the Razor’s edge of Eternity.
Of Light and Dark I walk the grey middle.
Think not of who I am, will be, or was,
For as long as I walk that Razor’s edge
I will change with the times.
I fight to live, by right of blood, I live to fight.
Born to Fight, Trained to Live, Wanting to Die.
Is it Sad to Hate what you are?
Is it Horrible to have no Compassion?
I don’t know, but I Hate what I’ve become.
Would you want to live my Life and
Do what I’ve done, see what I’ve seen
Hear the Screams in the night,
Feel the bitter cold breath of Death,
As you Fight to Live.
When you become as I have, you are as the dead,
A walking husk of lifelessness.
There is no mirth except that which is forced,
No heart, no pity, just cold logic.
Lack of compassion, lack of feeling.
Whence you have become as I have
You are one of the Unknown
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