The Night Walker

Folder: 
Anger

I walk in the middle of the night, praying on the ones I hate

Walking down the streets of Washington. I grab my black hood, like the

a huntress in the night. My knife so sharp witch prays on blood. My hood so

black, it shows no mercey. The beauty witch is inside me, bring my pray.

I glance at them with my sharp teeth. Come close, close, closser and you will

feel my pain. Sweet, pain that I pray on. I walk behind you, I will glance or linger.

I will just look one time, and walk on into the night. I will look with red eyes of envy.

I will look, with heartship and care. I will look with anger, and fustration. But most

of all I will look with love. Even as time flys by, I'm still in love. The anger, the hate, the

maddness will never change. I'm still in love. The walker,  the talker, the late night stalker.

I'm still in love. If I could have one more chance, I would. If I could love once more, I should.

But my after you left, it didn't open agian. After you left, my heart burned agian.

After you left, my tears would even cry. After you left, my soul went out, and said bye.

I am now without a soul, or a heart. I wish I could hear you one more time. Then maybe

It will open my heart. Maybe then will I taste you agian. Maybe then we will be friends. Maybe

then I will stop the hunting, maybe then I will just keep on walking. I now am a victium of

my lust, and love. My soul is not on earth, it is already above.

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