The 17th of May.
The day the gates of hell smashed my life,
loosing the force of hate.
Releasing me from the positive,
Allowing me the pleasure of the opposite.

Grains of old still remain,
Covered by what I've become.
Moved by little, but always strongly so.
We'll show 'em our power
And burn eyes in their sockets.

Hearts edge seared by words returned,
Burned blood fills my soul.
It overpowers me where
Where I thought I was strong.
Now I know the euphoria of the kill.

The crimson tide teems with green and white,
Running fast through my veins.
Buring my innards clean,
Wiping the cross from my heart.
As my skin turns blue
Only fire water quenches my thirst.

Evil has taken root,
growing into my entire being.
It's all about this now.
Nothing else will do me wrong
in such grand style.

17th of May: where hate found me.