Tuesday, March 2

I kept the paper I wrote this on for you to swallow (a late post)

Bullets, a taste of death on innocent bodies

Voices begging for mercy on the most evil souls

Their laughter over the cries of many hunts me in my slumber

As blood flows like an endless river in a cold night of November

Too much of a massacre with your abuse of power

Adrenaline rushes thru your rotten veins and greedy heart

Simple preparation for lucifer’s party to start

Your conscience if there’s any, may it slowly tear you apart

Guns and slaps for a mother, son and friend

While sipping life away have you thought of your children?

What you did, what you happily did, will someday come back

Justice, like a sleeping volcano, will someday wake up

You’ve forgotten one fact that someone’s watching above

They call you lord, but you’re no match to God, whose eyes are set on you

There’s nowhere to run, and absolutely definitely completely, nothing to save you.

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