My house remains empty. I have no connections, though I collect humans like knick knacks; they clutter my being with their mundanity. Nothing and everything crowds me.
They say I am evil, I am insane. No, I say, I am them. Mirrors don't lie; images do. No matter how one looks at it, I am hell. I haunt myself with images of my prey. My words are mere reflections of their dark hearts. I am sanely crazy. I am my mission. My eyes ever seek those whom I will devour.
I'm resting now, though not in peace. Never peace. I'm dreaming of war where weapons are words inspired by hatred. War is my playground. The only place I can be. I am living death. I am the fire which fuels hatred. I tempt the wounded just as I tempted the wounder.
With every accusation I thrive. Lies are my dear, dear children. You and I, we are family. Yet, I am ever empty. I continually thirst. I gag on your naivete; the bile is ever so sweet.
Never will I be finished. I'll draw the life from mankind, one breath at a time. I am Acheron, the river of woe. Woe is nothing more than me. I laugh at calamity. I laugh at pain. I laugh at you. I.. I... I... what? What's this? What are you doing? What? No, no, no, no, no! You rob me when you forgive your enemy. You banish me when you love.
Yet, let one miniscule offence capture your attention, and I will return. I will exploit a wound until the wounded becomes the wounder. All it takes is a dash of pride.
Yes, I will be back. Never peace. Never hope. Never love. No. Never. I live in the darkness of your making. Feel free to judge everyone... except, of course, yourself. We'll have no humility here. Humility is weakness in disguise. Remember your rights. Others thwart what should be yours. Take it back by force. Yes, that's right. Come closer. Warm yourself by my fires. There's always room for rage.
How easy it is to deceive. How easy it is to lead the offended into pride. I am the enemy of your soul, yet I masquerade myself as vengeance. Oh, righteous indignation, how I thrive on you. How I exploit with imaginations of a righteous vengeance.
I am the accusor, the father of lies. You are welcomed to mimic me. Be my voice. That's right, be my voice, sweet bile of mine.
I am the enemy of your soul.
I am the enemy of your soul.