Pain and Hate,
that's all that's ever there,
letting me stare into that blank wall,
the silence of our souls falling,
from the open window,
makes a curl in my gut.

now can you see that twirling dark,
my nature depraved my hate something amazed,
tortured at the stake,
maybe nailed to the cross,
whipped and chained,
when he could have been lost.

can you see the frost,
moving just as slow as grave moss,
they never saw it coming,
more and more they looked upon the hill,
little did they know,
death awaited them,
and with one,
silent cold shrill,
they where no more.

So I ask myself what to be grateful for,
and they painted a portrait for me,
who ask you is they,
they is what some of us will never comprehend,
I can't even begin to describe something,
that I don't know is even there,
but I talk to them all the time.

Just like a rain drop
I was born to fall,
and I sit here,
I fall further to the ground,
I hit and awake,
the darkness has made me lye forsaken,
I laughed,
I cried,
I fell to my knees,
and beat the ground,
I rose to my feet and beat his face,
I had his blood all over me and I basked in the glory of hatred,
for me his blood was like an awakening,
a rebirth even,
so if all this is true,
and our people so intelligent,
why then do we have such brutalness,
still implemented in our minds?

So I do ask this question,
to hope my answer is fulfilled,
before all life has been sealed,
thrashed and pulled,
I bowed and took a stand,
walked over and shot him in the head,
the insanity is enough to make me hurl,
the death?
the Death.
so peaceful and calm like a cold shatter amongst a loud aria of fear,

That night I cried not even a tear.
 
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