I feel the blood running down my face
With a look in his eyes that screams demise
My life seems all but mine
Here I lie awaiting
My death is looming
The blade that he draws must spill more blood that's mine
For all that has passed I cannot help but ask:
"Why am I the one to die?"
I face this end alone
The touch of his blade against my flesh
Fills him with pleasure so dark it passes not his lips
With a swift move my end is signed
I can feel my very essence being drained
I can hear the whispers of the demons poisoning his mind:
"More blood," they say. "More lives."

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