Rivers of blood spill
From the wounds of they who die
The beating of hearts still
To form another lullaby

A sickly sweet and bitter tune
Of those who souls, this world, depart
I work by silver light of moon
To craft these blood soaked works of art

The art of murder, a knack for death
A pleasure never before to me known
The excitement of the final breath
A satisfaction all its own

It's wrong, it's bad, it's vile
It's wicked, and unjust
But there's few else that can make me smile
Than sating an unquenched bloodlust

So catch me if you can
But it's already too late
It was over even before it began
There's just no stopping fate


There's nothing I regret
And there is no going back
The way is decided my path has been set
And many more lives will fade to black

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