you know… on late nights / when the wind blows through my bedroom window, sending shivers down my spine / i can feel the monster swimming through my veins sometimes / baring its teeth / and circling / through my bloodstream / because that’s what monsters do, don’t they? / because you’re getting older / every. single. day. / your skin starting to wrinkle and your hair turning grey / empty echoes of my voice slowly fading away / so i’ll go back to the place it all began / hoping / begging / for a tiny morsel of the past / but it’s not the same / they’re never coming back / and all along / you should have known that eventually it would come to this / on a fine winter’s night / as you run through the forest / knee deep in snow / and the wolves howl / as your hands turn black / and maybe… maybe this isn’t such a bad way to go.