Agents field calls from the south
Pointing in the direction of hell.
Nothing tends to lend to redemption
When cast upon evils spell.
She was born on the third moon
Welsh, with a little Saxon.
Scheming demise within the walls
But it’s only a small infraction.
A silhouette glides across the wall
As she traces a finger down his spine.
All the columns within this building
Suddenly take a shine.
The ignorant breed like rabbits
While the intelligent tend to abstain.
What have you gotten when you win the war
If what you lose is your brain?
The force takes the babe from the woman
Lays it on a dirty sheet.
Takes the dagger from his hip
Worlds suddenly meet.
Mercy doesn’t like redemption
Justice dislikes peace.
Matters of the heart are small
When ripped from angry sheets.
Tie the hands of kindness
Then kill the likes of harm
The teeth you like to use to intimidate
Will someday be part of your charm.
She will have another child one day
Because she rather likes the creeping.
Much like the one brought to the world today
The next one will be born sleeping.