❝ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴅɪɢ ɢʀᴀᴠ&#7431

You long for the taste of blood..

It's a priority, a fatal attraction, your addiction. You can never have to little or to much, but with just the right amount you feel like titanium. It's then that you realize it's not the metallic fondue that's got you yearning for it's addicting toxin, it's the who, the organism that you feast upon; like a delicate flower the specimen shrivels up and turns to sunder. You are no monster, even if that is what you are entitled as. But more of a sociopath, with the slightest sentimental belief -- whom unwillingly basks in the glory of horrendous accusations and gore moments. Find one's self indulged with your manipulative tactics that can lure a victim into a trap, but in all fairness you neither have the dignity or the right reasoning to penetrate or exterminate an asset -- choosing to spare them for another day, allowing someone else to slaughter them; you know when and when not to get blood on your paws.

Down the barrens, through the darkness..

Dark skies and horrid terrains, there is light for you in it's wake, as the stars that are millions of galaxies away aid to your unspoken prayers. A path that has your appendages leaping, every muscle fragment screams out for remorse, but there shall be no rest until you reach homeward bound. The digits on your paws test the solid clean sweep of the earth surface, with the mass you possess has the sandy basins tumbling down the edge of a slope -- still no balance is deceived while a beast like you walks on a line so thin that not even the Devil could master the arts. The wind picks up, playing its chorus in notes that have yet to be unlocked, and its icy talons attacks your ashen grey tresses with such rage that it almost felt as if the tips of daggers were being punctured through your epithelium. Gem stones of electrifying blue bolts of lightning nipped at the violent of sand particles that threatened to blind her, yet her oculars shown brighter than the moon itself; igniting a flame within their reach and bleeding a black goo as many called it. Now with stepping over obstacles, it seems you have entered your demise, and found your way home.

But what can be sought out in the awakening hour..

[Sorry for the shitty starter post, muse is okay I guess. and yes my way of writing varies, from using, "she", "i", "you". I'm weird haha.]