It was cold, unfair and beyond painful.
Everyday to see the chain warp around my throat
choking me slowly, deathly and blissfully.

I was in hell, looking at heaven the world I live in
spared me no mercy and mocked my existence,
only showing me scorn for love.

I want to run. To run is to live. To run is to be free.
To run is to show spite,
yes, spite the fuel that burns brighter than anything.

I shall burn brighter than any star
for losers of this earth shall perish in mercy of the strong better as dead,
better as food, better to show off the gruelling taunt.

A vow carved by my own blood
as promise to embrace the never ending pain
and suffering, ahh my chaos take this world.

What beauty lies in this accursed world
as the never ending cycle continues innocence,
a pure lamb, the exposed and soon to be dust.
Is there any beauty in this ouroboros.

Wait, could it be that life the purpose of life to live is to suffer?
To live is to then die, to live is to experience.
Now after this small quarrel of mine
let us suffer a little more
before going to sleep.