It’s a lonely existence living without the sun.

Warmth is something forever elusive in my eyes.

I am colder than the dark side of the moon.


Soft lunar rays brush upon my skin with the offer of comfort.

Yet there is none.

I know there will be another type of warmth I will be feeling soon.


Like the moon chases the sun, I forever chase after warmth.

My prey offers it, but very little of it.

It’s forever fleeting from my grasp.


The crimson flow of life contains a never ending hunger in me.

If fills me and then leaves me insatiable.

More warmth is all that I ever ask.


Blood bathing and flesh tearing purvey no satisfaction to my true need.

It only fulfills my wrath.

Why must I long for the one thing that eludes me?


Cursed living among mortals who takes simple things like warmth for granted is torture.

Envy is my number one sin.

For this retched life, God I curse thee!