So Cold, so Dark.

I have the feeling that my soul is as cold as my knife.
It's been hours since I've warmed it in my hands.
Days since I've warmed it in my blood.

I've never felt so cold, so dark.
And I can tell that they're are afraid.
Well they should be.

I have this insanity that they bang on about.
That I shouldn't be around other bleeders.
Would I lift my knife to you?
Your pathetic fear and your witless accusations
MAKES ME LAUGH.
But where's my real joy?
In swinging my blade and pretending to SLASH
At your filthy THROAT! (=