• the mirror that i look so weakly into reflects her eyes stairing into me...
    they are my eyes...but not me.
    i would die if only to make her suffering end, but as long as she longs for our big brother my suffering will never end.
    its almost unbearable to believe that she would want him more than me...
    in reality i am him...or at least a copy, a puppet upon her string...
    i want it no other way.
    Mother, i need your voice and guidance,
    to teach me the true way,
    to purge this world of fools, and let anarchy reign.
    Mother, your son calls for you
    i need you to answer...
    Mother....
    Mother...
    Mother..
    Mother?