Drawn to conflict,
Like moths to flame.
Existing between layers,
Drinking strength.
Consuming power,
Through suffering.
Hunted to oblivion.
Fie,
Ye who'd have my head,
Upon your wall.
Thy cryptid trophy.
I'll gut you first,
Instead.
Well used to pain,
For sake of gain.
Drawn to conflict,
Like moths to flame.
Existing between layers,
Drinking strength.
Consuming power,
Through suffering.
Hunted to oblivion.
Fie,
Ye who'd have my head,
Upon your wall.
Thy cryptid trophy.
I'll gut you first,
Instead.
Well used to pain,
For sake of gain.