(vol 1: The E.R)
Two minutes to breathe, three to die
"Just let me go" he heaved,
"The pain!, oh the pain" he cried.
And why be it ye long to die?
"I rot in pain, I know not why
But my last breath I ask of thee."
I count not time in hours but seconds
Ye shall come with me in three...
--The little thing by his bed stoped beeping--
Behold thineself oh evil one,
Wipe thine eyes, evil know'th not sympathy
I done no evil deeds than them you done,
I am my Makers purpose, for thy sake
And how doth ye, my con compare
To thine malignant wallow in self pity?
I am that I am, for I choose to be;
What other power hath thee but to life take?
I am my Maker's purpose, who art thou?
A reason for life, my existence create
But thine breath alone of havoc doth reek
And thine eyes are to thine Maker, foul
I expanded my walls and broadened mine gates
As Hell doth with fresh souls seethe
But for thee, my days liken christmas
Bid thine Maker greetings from hell
And thanks for His business.
Copyright © macalurs 2007