The killer is here
Demanding them forward
Calling off each name
Checking the box on the list
Thanking the devil for his slaughter
Contemplating the next move
The coarse and unrefined ways of his art
But it isn't over
He pulls back the hammer
And fires a shot
Listless feelings enter in his mind
And he wakes up to discover
He is only a child
With only so much to go on
Little known facts about the big bad world
Fitting his place in the grand cog machine
Fathoming the end results of simplicity
That maddening idea of content
Finding a solace in the ordinary
And flailing his arms to and fro
Observing everything from an outisde window
Watching his mother a milk white widow
Wither away and turn faulty
As he cries a small cry calmly
As he remmebers his ridicule
As he remmebers his idealism
His worshiping idols
Shooting down ideas
Fatherly retribution served fiercely
He the killer in his dreams
Erasing the pain and the hurt
With well mannered shots
With heated ambition
With imagined horror
Slipping back into his head
So that who was there is all but dead
when the morrow comes.
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