People often associate breathing with life. I find that slightly ironic because you see my friend I am dead. You look at me strangely I breath yet I am dead how can that be so? Because to live you must have will and something that makes you want to live.

And I lost mine long ago. So many years ago, I lost my will and reason. So I am here seeking my bloody revenge and the hope that God might finally finish what he has started. He might kill me for real this time. Then maybe my friend I can see and feel the tender flesh, lips of my lover again.

I lost my love to a General’s arrow and now I am left that wishing when the arrow pierced my lover’s heart it had pierced mine as well.