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.

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