Now we have entered a game of deception. Bones blackened and charred. Never underestimate the desperate nature of a broken man. This storm is nature's release, containing the ultimate insult of character, with lacerations running much deeper than the skin. And that image is burnt into my brain consuming an entire unconscious world. You've proved your worth. Entire seasons have collapsed and I thought that you had learned. But I can't be fooled this time around because I know who I am and what I want. From the inside out; building on psychological scar tissue. It comes when you least expect it, a glimpse of weakness in the eyes and our target is set: curled up by the phone. All that is heard is the breaking of glass and tearing of flesh from within. Sycophantic pied piper of trusting fools. The weak are not accepted here. Fingers out-stretched, a mild quiver, turning relentlessly in the silence waiting for a sign. You couldn't understand. I'm finished with these subtle sentimental plans. It wasn't worth it from the start. I'm free. I'm free.
You're dead to me. Lethe.
You're dead to me. Lethe.