It's time to grow up and stop all these games,
You and your friends should all be ashamed.
How old are you, Broken? An infant at best,
Until you get what you want, you cannot rest.

You whimper and moan, I hope you drown in your cries,
So sad you must be, that Demonslayer turned his back on your lies.
The tight leash around him that you've tied,
Has made him disgusted to even stand by your side.

Goddess, you annoy me with your pathetic ways,
Get a life, find another's heart to try and phase.
But, I'll be the bigger person here, and I'll just simply say:
Please, Nisha, please. Just go away.


Penned by my hand on the 24th of Bellum, in the year 460 AD.