A Twisted Rhyme
From the shadows of madness
Steps another; and another; and another one -
A demon with gun
To once more fill the air with evilness
Again, the reasons remain unclear
Whether a diseased mind;
Or a life lived in sick rind
Of old wrongs, bent righteousness; or some faceless fear
Tribes, gangs, racists, terrorists or one crazed killer
Using executions as matter of sick revolution
(their false truths make for self immolation)
Against good people of graceful pillar
No other species ravages so much or so well
As does the human race
For the sake of a perverted face
That denies angels and calls out the fiends in hell
While most of the kindred live under blue skies
Caring for their babies and mending fences
Growing gardens, teaching moral senses
So that vicious hands may not take any more eyes
Today, the sun light broke the horizon’s line
The survivors will bury their dead and they will pray
That their children can run and play
And for the strength to move on; is there a better twisted
rhyme?
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