I am a terrible person.
Have you ever done so many bad things, you start to wonder if you even deserve to breathe?
The lies; the deceits; the agony; the pain.
How I've dealt so much, time and time again. It seems as though I'll never be able to put a stop to it, or, even wanted to in the first place.
I am the bringer of pain, deliveryman of suffering, messenger of hurt. I am the Lord of Despicable Acts. That is me; and that is all.
I'm a bad, bad, man.
Revenge is a dish best served cold. But remorse... remorse is a dish best never served at all.
I am a monster.
Towards this, I am in no denial. How could you be, really? In sights of some beings, perhaps, I might even appear to have horns; mayhap even had sprouted, instantaneously, before their very eyes.
Not the devil; just, devilish.
Pure evil, none the less.
Sometimes, I even scare myself.
Some nights, I lay awake, unable to sleep of it.
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