Watching you silently as you play,
I see your pretty face.

Following you slowly as you skip along the way,
I feel your pretty face.

You skip and dance, but I lay low,
towards your face I aim my bow.

Thinking of your lover you dream pretty little daydreams,
no danger to your PRETTY, precious face, or so it seems.

I can hold it no longer! I let fly my arrow,
aww... your pretty pretty face.

Bleeding from your eye-hole!
Your Lover will scream with such horror!
Oh the joy! Woa the fire within my soul!
I feel your life is leaving you,
do you see me now?

It matters not for now I see,
Your face is so much prettier to me.

Contorted with anguish and pain,
Your dead face smashed upon the concrete.

How dreadfully beautiful... isn't it my friends?

This is not a dream, its not a poem. This is your new reality!
I have returned.

The Serpentine Reality

Penned by my hand on the 22nd of Sarapin, in the year 355 AF.