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Fear. And passion.

I fear you. I fear what you could do. What you could obtain. What you could tear apart.


I've lived many, many years, before time itself was an issue, before Heaven and Hell came to be. I am trapped here, inside of my vessel, and she's not...the best for me to dwell inside of.

I'm the blackness you see behind her eyes, the fire on her tongue, and the sense of destruction that most see in her, or witness first hand.



You see, we are all mad here, clinically insane, schizophrenic, just plain nutso.


Completely gone, shall you save what is left to save, if anything at all?

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