They don't trust me
it is well that they don't
but sometimes, I think they see
what I try so hard to hide
I know they fear what I do
I can taste that salty bitter emotion on the wind
My ways are not in lies, but in words half-true
and yet I long for their warmth
Do I know love?
I do not think so
for me love and hate are hand in glove
but I have wished that I knew
I was once a mortal man
but I cannot remember that time
only dark deeds done because I can
and now cut me with regret's sharp edge
my companions, so fierce, so alive . . . so mortal
I will truely regret the day when any one of them
ANY one of them, steps through death's dark portal
I will gaurd as I can, for as long as possible
but who will gaurd them from a demon made from a dead man's bone?
a hollow replica of a once-vibrant, once-living person
so empty, so alone
an empty shell wrapped in a demon's power