Erin Bryce

Rookie (6/19/91 / Hell)

Fog

His unforgiving egotism was naught but a normal man's dreams
Fool, I'd have shot him though the heart if I'd had the chance
From my past I've grown deaf to those screams
I sent that ingrate to join Death in a final dance

No longer will his selfishness continue to advance
''Twould ever give me pain to she the blood of a fellow creature'
Spare the theatrics. Ah, but when his heart my bullet did trance
Such foolish discourses would n'er again feature

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