IIII

I don't know. I'll edit this if I feel like it.

A knock upon the nervous place.

I feel their presence in my face.

It's worse to mull, yet worst to think.

Your touch, what brings me to the brink.

 

...

Hatred is the drink of kings,

that extends one above human beings

and fills one up with vivid dreams

and drives one to the base extremes.

 

To grow beyond the scope of man,

to drive oneself to conquer lands,

to devour all that walks and stands,

for this, one pays with plots and plans.

Author's Note

You should probably just ignore this altogether.