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Description
The manipulative pesamistic; sucking life from the ones who offer happiness. The vampire that plucks at the heartstrings and weaves the
webs of lies and deceit. A parasite that leaves the infection of discontent, watching them writhe in pain and misery, glady moving forward
without conscience. A sweet appearance, and toxic personality...a good combination. A person willing to play the game for themself...playing
their hands and making their moves across the board and gambling their lives away for material happiness. The players entangled in the game
used and sacrificed as pawns, to protect their queen who gladly burns the bridge of miscounted cards. One by one the cards fall, like the over
fragrant petals that fall from the tree of good and evil, but are only the sugar sweet coating of poison apples. The moral compass shattered
and broken on the twisted path towards their ends...no matter what road we choose, all roads are the same destination. The illusion of choice
hangs like a carrot, guiding the mule...the poor beaten animal. The tortured soul, chained and defiant; now cold and unfeeling.

Description
The manipulative pesamistic; sucking life from the ones who offer happiness. The vampire that plucks at the heartstrings and weaves the
webs of lies and deceit. A parasite that leaves the infection of discontent, watching them writhe in pain and misery, glady moving forward
without conscience. A sweet appearance, and toxic personality...a good combination. A person willing to play the game for themself...playing
their hands and making their moves across the board and gambling their lives away for material happiness. The players entangled in the game
used and sacrificed as pawns, to protect their queen who gladly burns the bridge of miscounted cards. One by one the cards fall, like the over
fragrant petals that fall from the tree of good and evil, but are only the sugar sweet coating of poison apples. The moral compass shattered
and broken on the twisted path towards their ends...no matter what road we choose, all roads are the same destination. The illusion of choice
hangs like a carrot, guiding the mule...the poor beaten animal. The tortured soul, chained and defiant; now cold and unfeeling.