~a Season For Giving~ Poem by E Nigma

They're sitting silently and staring at the words
Slipping through their guards
And gripping at their throats
They're crying quietly upon the feeling throne

Dismayed the moans carry a toll
Paid the piper with their tones
Sullen words are spoken cold
Over the corpse, under the moon

For what was known was not enough
What was shown was so abrupt
An eruption of boiling forces
Coursing through the note

The last words thought, the last he wrote
I've grown to hate you all more than you can know
Now to save the world from myself
My Gift to you if nothing else