It is true that I want them dead.
Tear them and break them.
Until their blood seeping through the floor.
However, I prefer to wait to see them burning. Dying.
Once they have been weighed in the balance, were found missing.
Now that you're gone I feel like myself again
After you lost your beauty
And all enchant fell down
That's what you've became
Broken Glass, your Fake Reflection
Feel the shadow of my oblivion
Ugliness is all that remains