These words youth speak unto me, bound
Me with chains for all eternity, the
Way They roll off your tounge like
Sweet candy, produced by the goddess
Of moral hate. The way I lay bound metally
Gnawing at the floor for relief, these chains grab at me
With the unearthly screatching of denmented screams.
Physically I'm broken with sarcasm, and witty remarks
Of tourcher and pain, that I will never cese to know.
My enemies Lick their lips in greed as they drag me into
The darkness and strip me of my only remaining dignity.
I'm left on the floor naked with defeat, so bring the gun and point
It at my head, you will be doing me a favour.
