The little children run, Scaring them is fun. Taking out a knife, And Taking an Childs life. Seeing the fear in their eyes, My ghostly figure always cries. Silent and stillness in the park, I stand under the wooden arch. I don't want children playing, on the spot where my body is laying. Brutally murdered and buried here, Yet nobody has shed a single tear. I feel the rage and anger boiling, I never thought I wasn't worth the toiling. No desperate pleas or cries, I want my loved ones to die. To feel the pain that I have felt, To feel your eyeballs melt. To slowly be burned by hot wax, To get your legs cut off by an axe. I cannot feel love, Forever love like two doves. I want them all to suffer, I wish that I was tougher. I could have fought off that man, I could have ran and ran. Instead I had to die, I want my spirit to fly.
