sinister telepathy is screaming at forgotten fears
An exit made of your [bad word]  may your reflection guide the blade.
In your lost code of self knowledge, a mere entrance for evil to enter
The venom is hidden and the venom wears a mask
(I serve myself upon the wings
of pains affliction, unto thee).
Disсonnect from my state of being
(and without a trace) it was my soul that murdered yours. That murdered yours.