The monster's name was Jade,
after the green-hued eyes she possessed.
She spoke like thunder of a summer storm
or like a costal breeze as a sweet caress.
She accepted my blood as payment
to ensure my rage has died.
Accepted, I thought she'd help me–
instead she killed me inside.
I broke free from Jade's steel-cold chains
that bound my feet and hands.
They left marks and scars from where they touched,
and yet I failed to understand
I'd never free myself from her for as long as I live,
for her call is much too great.
When I hurt I crave that pain,
that payment I used to hate.
I now fear of leaving her,
the way she hid my hopeless rage.
Help me, my green-eyed monster.
Kill me, my Jade, my blade.
(Oh wow, a poem. How'd that happen?)