This is Why.

Rotted inside,
within my wise old skin,
once beautiful and young,
living without sin.
Like a wolf in sheep's clothing,
I now prey on the sweet,
in hope of fresh grass,
however addicted to meat.

The flesh that hurts,
and decays me inside,
I wrench for that taste,
that first made me cry.
I was once that lamb,
preyed on by this twist,
that moment i died,
was the day that we kissed.

Like a ghoul or vampire,
we've all heard the story,
don't be lured in,
and join this sick glory.
I again hope to trust,
ad run through that gate,
free from my thoughts,
and this vicious cruel hate.

- 03:06, 31/03/2010