Kill Him- My pop
This call might be for my pop. Kill him, kill him, kill him for me. A beep is heard from the very top. The door is slow- opened by the golden key. He’s lived enough, enough and more. He must be slain, he should go. I’ll burn the pyre, I won’t cry. I hate him enough for he borne me. He tried, tried and tried very hard His life was spent, clearing all debts. He loved them, loved us, and loved at heart. He gave them, gave us, and was never given back. He had, like mine, love-woods, his own. In wine and shouts, he sought fresh air. I hate him, hate him, just hate him like God For the blood in my veins that do I love. Beads in that chain are so lovely and cute. Crushed and crushed, I just can’t bear. He’s lived enough, enough and more Kill him, kill him, just kill him for me. Helpless, hopeless, novice and voiceless, he is. None can help him, other than the Death. Rebellious, Jesus, Society- what else...