After all this tragedy, will you be able to call yourself a human
"When Blood Became Our Song"
I loved her like the night loves stars,A madness wrapped in velvet scars.She was my poison, sweet and bright,The fire burning in my night.
Her eyes—two orbs of haunted grace,A fragile mask upon her face.Her laughter cut through halls so cold,A story twisted, cruelly told.
But she was never truly mine,Though in my heart, she did entwine.The maid's son stole what I adored,Left me shattered, cut and floored.
I sinned before, I sinned since then,Yet never lost her love—until whenHer smile bloomed on another's lips,And fell away like sinking ships.
How strange it is, to love and hate,To thirst for vengeance, then for fate.To chase the ghost of what's been lost,And pay the unforgiving cost.
I found her there, where shadows sleep,Her breath a secret, slow and deep.The knife—a shard of midnight black—Cold in my hand, no turning back.
She begged, she cried, her voice a song,I held her close, where we belonged.My madness danced in crimson rain,A twisted waltz of love and pain.
I watched the blood, a river's flow,A scarlet art I did bestow.Each drop a tear, each tear a sigh,The echo of our last goodbye.
But hear me now, if you would dare,My love was real, beyond compare.I never sought to end her breath,Only to silence cruel death.
Yet in that moment, dark and wild,My heart, my soul—both undefiled—Became the weapon, sharp and true,Wounding both me and you.
She was beauty, harsh and sweet,The storm and calm my soul did meet.Her hair like silk, her skin like snow,A fragile flame that dared to glow.
To see her fall, to watch her bleed,Was agony and ecstasy's creed.A paradox, a dreadful art—The breaking of a fragile heart.
I laughed, I wept, I cursed my fate,To be the lover and the hate.To wield a blade with trembling hands,And sink within love's shifting sands.
No monster born, no demon made,But man undone by love's cruel blade.A shattered mind, a broken trust,In blood and dust, I found my rust.
She was my sun, my darkest moon,A haunting, never-ending tune.I loved her more than breath or bone,Though madness claimed her as its own.
If love could kill, then I was damned,By twisted fate, cruelly planned.I hold her still within my mind,The beauty lost, the cruel kind.
And if you hate me, as you must,Remember love is not just dust.It burns and breaks, it heals and scars,It's held within the bloodied stars.