Evil has an address, it's in the heart of man

One by One the pengiuns steal my sanity. . .

My scars prove my worth

Sanity, is for the weak!

There is no such thing as innocence, only degrees of guilt.

Hate. It's sweet taste allows one to forget their pain. Thus, in the depths of despair, men cling to hate. Even if they know the deception is only momentary. . .

Some days I find myself disgusted to be part of the human race.

To err is human.
To arr is a pirate.

Wall of fright stains my apathy,
Light has gone from all I look upon.
This is the end my darkest friend,
for no fear will tread upon my peace.

Being vague is almost as fun as doing this other thing.