Edicius
10:00 the jury has reached the verdict
after that horrible trial, the end results not as planned
she could not understand, her baby .. a monster; but not on her demand
how could it be? where did i go wrong..
what did i DO! the woman turned weak, though always she was so strong
fear of whats next .. will this pain forever stay?
& like a world war II inside her brain that drove her insane she started to flow away ..
that verdict.. GUILTY..
extinguised her hopes, distinguished by the comparing of differences..
finishing last in her own class..
confusion as a mind state,
she was unable to conquer this pliable mass..
what was coming next? survive this mess, but how?
...what will we do now?
knowing that the approximate calculation of quantity failed to reach its truth
& the breaking news broke her down, a separation of her structure
her world just froze, a state of abruptly rupture
devastation inquired secretly, penetrating her train of thought
stuck in this big bad dream,
and her reality so far to reach was being sought..
Born to Kill
I’ve killed a hundred men, today makes one oh one…
Nothing about this is different, cept the mother of this son.
I hide behind mirrored glass, I know she can’t see my face…
But her stare in my direction blasts, like her eyes are spraying mace.
I’ve seen plenty of parents show apparent misery and rage…
But never directed towards me like it is on this dreary day.
She’ll barely look at her son, I see his gaze plead with hers…
But she’s too busy glaring past him, at me, his executioner.
Physicians seem to be spared this sorrowed woman’s wrath…
They inject the needle with care, while I walk a different path.
The jury can find em guilty, the judge can sentence death…
But I’m the one who actually takes their very last breath.
There’s no best at what I do, no rating scale for me…
Never a board of review for prisoners minus heartbeats.
There’s no glory in this story, and rarely is there hate…
Cuz forgiveness runs amok when it’s time to face your fate.
Except on this day, cuz while he begs to be let into heaven…
His mother’s raging hate plots revenge for her son Evan.
At eleven past seven, Evan’s pronounced dead and gone…
And as I give a bored yawn, I notice mom’s rage withdrawn.
She wants to hold on, Warden let her hold his hand after…
Then has to use his brawn, to make her let go…
............................And I just can’t suppress my laughter.
Which shakes the rafters…cuz he’s dead and just a shell…
Whose soul doesn’t matter anyway cuz it’s on it’s way to hell.
I leave the scene behind, hit the showers and unwind…
Then leave the prison and it’s crimes, forgetting I’d been unkind.
Beers on my mind, as I fumble at my car for keys to grab…
When suddenly from somewhere behind, I feel a burning stab.
Then hit the slab quick, like my legs had been cut off…
Face down on the asphalt I start to sputter and cough.
I can barely make out the figure looming above me…
As the mom of that fuckin nigger, only now looking lovely
Because her tormentor’s slayed, she loses the aura of chilly…
And cuz all her rage disengaged the second that she killed me.
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