The Art Of Insanity

Blessed with this mind unknowing of fear with blinded hatred for this testement skies have turned black emotions painted gray, gray as cold stone. I hate your face for waht you've done to me. With so little time and so many graves buried in my heart I have filled them all. On these blood stained walls you are veiled in your cloth of security. What if your life meant nothing. You would impale this world for one bleeding honor.