Shunned. Forgotten
Beaten. Rotten
Stitched. Sodden
Weakened. Trodden
Lost. Alone
Demented. Disowned
Sentenced. Sewn
Disallowed to atone
Only the blind will forgive me
Wretch that I am, I'll outlive thee
Love. Passion
Contentment. Attachment
Conceit. Camaraderie
Comfort in who we are to be
Hundreds of things took for granted
More than a right, they're expected
Dead. Tales. Why I?
Monster fables. Resentment. Fear
Purpose. Anguish. Company. Man
Think. Smile again
Judas fell to the darkness of Hell
He hurt, regretted in his eternity cell
But at least he saw not what he reckoned
Nor heard the cries of the damned he had beckoned
Victor, I've heard
Sits alive and superb
Cheering. Smiling
Not just living, but whiling
While his creature of ire is disregarded
But there's no tomb on this Earth capably guarded
Dead men tell no tales, so why am I here?
A monster fraught from fables in resentment and fear
What purpose could such anguish serve in company of man?
I don't think I'll ever smile again
I will learn
(The life which I studied could never have loved me.)
I will fight
(He can't ignore that which he left sick and bloodied.)
And as I yearn
(The thing you fear most is not the daemon disdainous.)
I'll be right
(The thing you fear most is your own baseness.)
And so I'll murder, defile
All else that is vile
Lay waste to all he loves and then set light to the pile
If that fool doesn't do as I command him
Just one wish is all he's holding me ransom
If a man can play God; create life where there's naught
Just to steal away to comfort while ignoring what's wrought
Then it stands to reason he should pay penance
I'll be thrilled to hand down his final sentence
He's just a quack, clambering absently
Barely past the clasps of insanity
Underhandedly handling bias, waxing elegiac about anomie
So if that charlatanic blasphemy will not transmute another lass for me
As if this charade he calls 'Science' is any more than bastardized alchemy
There'll be no suitable weapon he could brandish
Land, sea and ice, I will ravage
Shunned. Forgotten
Beaten. Rotten
Stitched. Sodden
Obscenely begotten
Not even God's light will reach you
Yet, wretch that I am, I beseech you
Chair underfoot, don't you tempt me
You'll find the weight of life awfully heavy