I feel the blood running down my face With a look in his eyes that screams demise My life seems all but mine
Here I lie awaiting My death is looming
The blade that he draws must spill more blood that's mine For all that has passed I cannot help but ask: "Why am I the one to die?"
I face this end alone
The touch of his blade against my flesh Fills him with pleasure so dark it passes not his lips With a swift move my end is signed I can feel my very essence being drained I can hear the whispers of the demons poisoning his mind: "More blood," they say. "More lives."