Part II
How can you prove this existence is not my playground?
You can’t.
I am the Eternal Master,
the god you secretly worship,
the mortality you bow down before.
I am a Demon!
I am the Devil’s spawn!
The result from when Satan fucked humankind.
I am the proof that your GOD does not exist,
for I hold the answers to Life.
Do you want them?
I will ask of you only . . . Eternity.
That is the price to believe.
Your GOD may have brought forth your life,
promising Eternity to those who believe,
but it’s me you’ll deal with until Eternity comes.
Last time I checked, Eternity was an awfully
long time,
but that’s all right,
because that’s how long I’ve got --
forever.
Look into my eyes;
you see, I have no soul.
I feed on your very blood
and I smile as I watch you die.
I am forever!
My hatred,
my hunger,
my love.
My need for you.
Savior,
serpent,
fallen angel or
glorified fool --
I am all.
I am your wildest dream come true
and the nightmare
you never thought to conceive.
And the Lord GOD said, “I AM.”
So am I.
The difference?
I always am,
not just when it suits your convenience.
The judgment cannot touch
that which is already cursed.
I am the Keeper of Time
and the Captor of Death.
Neither can touch me,
and they bow to my whims like
servants before a pagan god.
I play with them,
and so I play with you,
my pretty --
my dear --
Such a possessive word, “My.”
But that is what you are,
what you were born to be,
what you long to be --
mine.
You, my marionette,
give meaning,
give soul,
give life to these characters
which are you and me.
I live my life through you,
you hold my fantasies within your grasp.
I, in return, hold your teardrop in my hand,
to keep it, or let it fall, as I will.
Do you see now?
Do you understand?
We are so intertwined, you and I,
that you could not tell where one began
and the other ended.
And so it is with a perfect creation;
I am perfect,
and you are the creation.
Oh, don’t worry, it’s not just you;
You wouldn’t be so lucky.
You are so amusing!
I’m like a little child with a new toy;
everywhere I look there’s another plaything --
If one breaks, another is there to take its place,
enough to last from now until . . .
Oh, but you don’t have that long, do you?
I don’t ask much.
Just that you idolize me,
adore me,
hold me in utter reverence.
You can defy me if you like,
but I will demand your undying devotion
just the same.
You are nothing!
You are a toy.
But I need you, just the same.
Give me your loyalty,
give me your piety,
and the Master will become the servant.
Answer quick now!
I am so like a child.
I bore easily.
The teardrops are falling;
your time is running out.
Remember, you are just a toy.
Can you prove me wrong?