You turn your back of empty sockets coward – your highest title cradle the lie feigning your own death sympathy comes but not pouring as it had does it? Even with this staged tragedy and never from me never again I want to make it real you're coming to know that I look at you now little more than a castrated actor yet still the eyes make threats not from spite but from habit which has long since become your nature but you know your only power over me is that you could push me to kill you so come with your games and screams of superiority your perfect victim routine hasn't worked on me in years silver – tongued Judas I am your highest enemy possessed of angelic vengeance you've got one foot in the grave choking on your arrogance now suffer the blows of my aggression worth all of her tears turn around I'll rip your throat out die a coward.