*attains Dr. Killjoy's voice*

Through out the decades that I've seen, let that be many unlisted, but few to have, I've seen my fair share of lusterous beings and objects of such damage that a simple tap ought to be good enough to destroy the damned. But some things keep me at bay...

For the Sun, she blinds me...

The Moon, he changes me...

The Crowds of illiterate fools that walk among us that we're forced upon to call "Fellow Man"... it sickens me.

It sickens me enough to want to find a compainion, but those I cannot touch, for fear of turning them to what I've become. See, it all happens so slowly, my metamorphesis. It began with my Grandfather's death, and slowly peaked at the divorcing of my parents, but all of this contributed to my "Shakespeare" approval. I am unknown as a poet to most of my friends- friends being a term I use too often for my own good- and peers. But, as I've said,

I'm an artist, and the bodies of those that I can manipulate- compose; obliterate; destroy; alter, at my will- are my many canvases... but merely an image I cannot create... merely an image is what I fear.

An image among society classified as "beastly", and that is why I cannot have a mate. That is why I am alone. But it's the main thrill of the hands grazing one another that I can live upon for multiple days... but just as slowly, each passing lightning strike fades in it's glory. I'm afriad to spread my disease of anger, frustration, possibly even my total hate of Mankind that makes me incompatible. I suppose that this is why I am alone, not because it's become obvious to me, oh no...

but because there must be a method to my madness...

A name to the Beast Inside of Me.