Necroalitly

"Call it necrophilia when you were feeling her because she was already dead when you met her. You probably couldn't tell because her eyes were open. If you took the time to study her you would noticed they were hollow. Sorry, I’ve mistaken that for her soul. Her eyes, her eyes, are filled with sorrow and disparity. Every night she looks for bodies to borrow and heart to swallow. She has circum to this self mutilation surrendering everything that validated her existence. Her affliction runs deep through her veins causing this mass destruction of all vital organs. She talks, but takes no breaths. She walks, but she has no heart beat. Love is foreign to her. Misery has moved in with company every minute. Would she be this way if she had a father?

You’re hands aren’t clean either. Every night it’s the same movie, same plot, new feature, sometimes different roles. You sell them love for one night only. You’re a serial killer with plenty of witnesses and victims. Yet, to each trial you proudly plead “not guilty.” when you’re tried for man slaughter. With the mentality of a mass murderer you can’t recall how many, names, or faces, well, except the special cases. Call yourself a real grim reaper taking each one under as if the last one wasn’t enough. Would you he this way if he had a daughter?

What's really sad is that he couldn't care less because his only concern is coming alive & dying on top of her and she won't care until she meets her necromancer, but even he can’t save her.

The plague of hopelessness has begun and when it sets the torture has began... "