IRC-Galleria

As the soft and warm meet the ice-cold steel,
One wishes to seize the moment.
The deep red is flowing faster,
As adrenaline exellerates us to hights unknown.
The dilemma of ending what one isn't meant to,
the sin of playing god.

What a skilled hand can carve in seconds,
not many righteous are willing.
The invigorating scent of a fading life,
The absence of reason from these hands.

The joy of doing wrong!
The euphoria of breaking the norm!

Like a beast in need of prey,
we circle around 'till we are fed.
Like the final rays of light
Ones journey is too easily ended.

In search of pleasure
we tend to make the greatest frauds.
Errors so grand,
Turned irreversable.

The joy of doing wrong!
The extasy of grabbing the knife!
The joy of doing wrong!
The grimmest pleasure of taking a life!