The conjuring of an itch

This was kind of a spur of the moment write, written in about 30 minutes, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated..
 
 
 
You ever look a Man in his eyes  
And watch him as he dies?
Watched the color leave his skin  
and force his last breath with a sigh?
You dont know emptiness,  
not the kind that dwells inside.
You know only of love and loss,  
Not taking away life.
It eats away and turns your guts,  
and boils in your veins,
Its like a drug that stole your love  
and just wont let you get away.
At first you hate it and yourself  
For losing that control.
For doing such horrific things  
To such innocent souls.
Once that goes away  
And takes with it all your fear,
You'll find guilt and remorse  
can simply fade and disappear.
It becomes you, and your very life  
revolves around the itch.
Doing all you must to scratch  
And ease the nagging bitch.
No peace will come to mind  
Nor ever again in life,
Save those ever-fleeting moments  
between their skin and a sharp knife.  
You'll hate yourself and claim  
that you will change your wicked ways,  
But take it from a changing man,  
you can not change whats in your veins.
You can paint your face and smile,  
even forget it for a while,  
Take my word,  
Its hiding there inside your bile.
you'll find yourself a passenger  
To something much more vile.
You wont be in control,
you wont be anything anymore,
A void inside the head  
of a monster that has no remorse.  
Just emptiness inside,
 a voice thats never heard,
A victim of the very beast
that you, yourself, conjured.