Chapter VII
Hunger
Emotional starvation pangs me;
Loneliness craves loneliness.
I have not found...
my love
where I fit in this world
Run through and through on the blade of the enemy.
If only the wound were more than a flesh wound;
Seeking death, seeking end to pain, seeking love.
Tools of self destruction are my best friends.
Lost in love ; lost without love, love without love.
Danger present, cold and calm; bring it on.
Prepare to die; the tomb in which I shall be lonely ;
We all die alone;
save but lovers in love when mixed
with Great tragedy and despair.
In this blood ; runs the lives of kings;
And without heir we pour this blood out ;
Upon the ground in cold heartless ways.
Ash moonblood