Fragmented Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

I am turning the tables,
And destroying the fables.
It is time to dispose the charming man,
And unravel what lies behind pearly whites.

I chew on trains,
And bath on blood stains,
As my noxious breath springs forth,
The harbinger of heartbreak.

My mouth stifles,
As cunning as a thief of the lightning
I am dreadful and ubiquitous,
I haunt what haunts the haunted.

My hands, once seething with warmth,
Now turned frigid, I have frozen the Sun with my stare,
And in my eyes set a glare,
The disdainful attributes of the evil in the mirror

Mirrors, do they amuse you?
They do not tell you how you look,
But rather discern who you are
I am a mess, such a beautiful mess

Then I shall ravage souls,
Souls that yearn to be enraptured
It is your veins, I will rupture
To commence your cerebral downfall.

You dare speak about pain,
I am the king of indifference, remember my name
For behind this robust, iron-clad suit
Is a fragmented man.

A fragmented man.
The slivers of the Stygian.