My Path, Your Path, This Generation

I walk a path none dare tread,
of shadows and darkness and bloody footprints.
On this road that has been said
to belong to the devil, and now a kid.
None believed, but I proved them wrong.
A kid can be the most dangerous of them all,
because this kid made them hear a song.
Beautiful and haunting, sharp and sweet,
they slowly fell fast asleep.
Absorbed in to this tapestry
and in their eternal slumber, they weep.
As nightmares begin, they scream and wail,
as their greed takes form, as it comes alive,
along with hate, envy, and despise.
They drown in their own negative energy,
swallowed by a pool darker than black,
as they then all realize what they had lacked.
But it's too late, the damage is done,
they've killed them all, so I have my fun.
I watch as they plead, as they cry black tears,
as they try to make it up for their destruction.
Foolish humans. Didn't they know?
They're the worst of the worse, the lowest low
puny, ignorant creature there is
that destroyed all else that could have live.
That killed everything and everyone
different from them.
My road, do you know what it is?
Take a guess, think logically,
using information from this warning.
This letter, poem, whatever you call it.
Don't say I didn't warn you; go as you see fit.
A devil gone, a devil born,
with each new generation we've worn,
a new road comes, created on top
of all you dead creatures that you yourselves
once had as family, friends, neighbors,
that you've killed because they're not
the same as you.
I walk a path that has always been,
a path created by your ugly sin.