Cold-Blooded Hands

Your wandering cold-blooded hands explore unwanted territory,
Your touch awakens the monsters who feed on the fear,
That was implanted as she told her story,
Yet despite where you stand, was it not made clear,
Or are you so sick in the head
To be unfazed by what was said?

All talk but the world isn't your stage,
Disguise what you've done but you'll never win,
We've figured you out and you've left quite the rage,
Just keep to yourself and all that has been,
We might never know who you really are,
Let's just say you've left a million scars.