ticcitobi

My blood is black, Yours is red, That makes all the difference, The hate, the bruises, Maybe it's just my mother's love? Ragnarok is my friend, or at least that's what I thought, Friends are supposed to hurt me a lot, Those screams, those cries, I can hear them after they die, Mother says it's okay though, That those people deserved to go, Just like those bunnies that I had to kill, I stared after their hearts had become still, The last one left had shivered and tried to run, I brought down the sword and my job was done, Mother let me stay out of the cell that night, Because I had caused that disgusting sight, She praised me