a .

For they eat of the bread of wickedness , and gorge on the wine of violence , so to shall you burn for their sin . Suffer at the hands of those that have made you , bound you to this life still screaming from the horrors of a gelid womb with chains that bite into ebony flesh as if to taste your blood and rob you of ever getting to freedom . They call you a monster , pretty illusion . Just how many digits have you taken off , snapping those jaws in defiant rage . The product of a union between a hellhound and a demon . A child no one can tame, becomes a adult few should ever hope to control without incurring your wrath.