If the child slaughter then come later Wrapped up and returned after many years Crawled out from under uncouth layers To take a shell back and lip in, well, wouldnt you? Would the child answer full of anger Full of rage and blood lust spoken but never shown With a seeming riddle or a puzzle Neither the brutal nor the timid could have know Deep down inside too dark to see The sex demands a shot of something What violent other could there be? Here is the end Here is nothing Nothing After breathing in the beginning After beating through what wasnt there Death became the only answer, but not the cure The final act became the meaning, but no one cared Deep down inside too dark to see The sex demands a shot of something What violent other could there be? Here is the end Here is nothing Nothing, nothing Nothing, nothing Nothing
nothing, sex, demand, violent, shot