"He's been very patient
And would love to attack her,
But there ain't a chance that he would,

Allow her to suffer
Not a single moment's discomfort!
By the might of a bludgeon

Or the sweep of a blade, for another single weapon
Can be used to a great effect,
Something much more personal

(An item with a pulse).
"Oh baby please
Don't fall victim to hope,

For he is a coward...
...But I am no coward...
And I can not be

Be forced to suppress, each thought that can only be so vile,
So dark, so grim and also beautiful!"
Not within himself, he can only find comfort in the form of another

To find fulfillment
He preaches this:
"Pure suffering is real"

There is not a chance anything will defer the event at hand
A lifelong, suffering wait has bred this
The heavens above cannot foresee what it is that he

Intends to do, it's his night and He...is king...
Of. This. Hell.