Substantial Guilt vs. The Irony Of Enjoying

and I lay numb, waiting for something worst to happen. sweet innocence, it
happened so suddenly. she crossed my path on the way to nothingness, I knew
that was encountering an angel of purity and in the process I've quickly
understood that I don't deserve her, none of us, humans, do. beholding such
a fatality leave you empty with bitter grief. life seem to be tarnished and
sour, raped in its very essence, but sorrow is rapidly replaced by
frustration, envy & despair. dressed in white, a child alone, so fragile and
beautiful has dawn, to hold her close was exhilarating in a most vicious
way. I felt so weak, yet empowered somehow. one thing leading to another, I
knew then, that if I could not experience nor possess purity, I would at
least try to grasp it and choke the life out of it. and I did, oh why, I
don't know but I did... violently, I've pummelled her face with my bare
fists till she became awfully deformed, bleeding and dying, all twisted in
terror... I, I, I have forcefully replaced every missing teeth in her mouth
by razor sharp shards of glass, slowly inserting every piece of glass in the
little one's gum. why was I laughing? I guess that is my art, to inflict
upon purity the only thing I can give, and unfortunately it's not love. I
should've feel guilty, I know, but it simply didn't occur. (As I am unable
to put the knife trough my own flesh anymore...)