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Wolf's Poetry
A nameless monster he's become
Before his story's even begun
Destined to this faitful lie
His childhood has already died

Watching among the nameless faces
As they work like maggots put in their rightful places
Knowing well enough this is what he's destined to become
He turns away to find someone

His house isn't a home anymore
Screams, crying and slamming doors
A mother only watches and nags for things to be right
As a father isn't even there until he falls asleep crying in the night

His dreams are always the shameful nightmares
But it's already his reality where no one cares
Stitches and broken bones underneath his pale skin
As he wishes for his faitful suicide to come again

Friends become his pitiful foes
Their pleasure is his pain, he already knows
He learns from what everyone around him does
In a world where no one knows love

When he's been taught to lie and cheat
Do you think he'll give up and admit defeat?
When he's been taught to hurt people so much
Do you think he'll ever have a gentle touch?

Time only continues passing through years
What he's seen are no longer his fears
He's become only a demented, sadistic killer
Who'll make front page for the theater's next top thriller

So many empty pill bottles run through his blood
The pain he was given just wasn't good enough
More and more, he takes away
His sanity will no longer stay

As his fingers curl around a fragile neck
As the strangled child hood body is just a wreck
He lets go of his first kill, and smiles
The only thing he's ever enjoyed is hostile

The night is his dark sanctuary
Where his child hood provides him with enemies
Memories he smiles at now and will tomorrow
So many screaming bodies for which he has no sorrow

His hands clasping the knife so beautifully
He holds her body so gently
As he takes her life away like she killed him long ago
His meniachal laughter is the last anyone knows

Do you think they regret what they did
When they get their share of acid?
Do you think they're only now pleading
Because they know how it feels to be bleeding?

He vows to himself to never be caught
He refuses to be like he was before and rot
As all the dead bodies are found in twisted ways
He's able to smile again and laugh at their pain

The families gather for a funeral of tears
As they face what he had once feared
Flowers are put upon their graves
But he wouldn't have even had a dead little flower to take





 
 
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