They wrote about me,
As one of the most notorious and chilling death peddlars the country has ever seen.
They spoke about me. In hushed tones.
...
Here joy and sorrow live side by side with Death ever watching.
Waiting.
This passage full of people
Has no end.
...
This gallery of dead is running out of room
I didn't expect to see you here so soon.
We will carry you close
...
Smiled so sweetly
Flashing gold capped teeth,
His laughter as young as his baby face
And just as innocent
...
Once was a person
Now just a picture
Depicted in darkness
Riddled with holes
...
And here I am broken
Writing songs and poems
With my left hand
In a cell with no light
...
Broken and by the wayside
His torment.
On a night so dark,
His soul is closing down.
...
Chains
They wrote about me,
As one of the most notorious and chilling death peddlars the country has ever seen.
They spoke about me. In hushed tones.
Every day I wake in chains,
I wash in chains I walk in chains
I even pray in chains.
To a sky so far removed and a God I believe in; while nobody believes in me.
I am getting older now.
Every pain I feel, I fear it is Death, her gentle reminders.
We have grown so much closer, with Time.
One day she will see me freed from these chains.