Simplicity at its finest,

words roll from my tongue,

like they were destined to be said,

my hate given form,

my darkness given shape,

lies upon lies,

burying the truth,

shameful is my sin,

yet,

in the house of man,

I am given a seat,

at the head of his table,

I am the weapon he seeks in his war,

against,

himself. 

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