Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Pain Chapter 1 Verse 2

I am a child with my head in my hands
Battered and bruised I fall from grace
Tortured and used until I cannot stand
A small bead of faith drips from my face
And I utterly have no reason
Alone with no blame for treason
I hope and I am made through the mad season
The innocence of love has been used
And the child turned man through evil
Is a conscience animal stealthy and new
Lying in wait with a touch that is lethal
Darkness hidden behind hazel eyes
I am the child with head held high
Waiting for people who are true or sly
For all must come to my judgement and die

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