Outcasts

Little lonely girl up on that dying tree,

Cutting branches, flowing hair,

Smoky lips and a soul to match.

Twisted thoughts, a plan she hatched,

Come on down and burn them all,

Down and down, up in flames.

Scatter their ashes and feel their pain,

Fill their screams in your jar of death,

Come alive with their anguished cries.

For they cast you out in the cold alone,

In the evil night, bare and free,

Only laden with a broken heart and a thousand crimes,

False of course, heaped and heaped, layers of lies.

Guilty as sin, of being different, accused and sentenced,

To a loneliness that should now be your strength,

Hold my hand and smelt your heart,

Curve your bows and mend your bones,

File your blunt spirit as sharp as your arrows,

Grab an axe and get to work.

 

Robot boy with an eye for me,

Trace her steps but stay beneath,

The emerge from the shadows in her wake,

And raze down their hopes.

Crush their spirit and filthy pillars of hypocrisy

Free their locked and the weak they mocked.

Stab through the heart of their wretched foundation.Image

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