I ask myself as I cry myself to sleep.
The blood, the torture the weeping souls,
come to rest on my poor mothers grave.
For my ugly father, quite handsome on the outside,
perished her one and every dreams,
killing her soul and appitite.
She never meant no harm, to
my cruel father, the ugly troll, or
murderer, deathly, father,
So cruel to my mom is sain.
"WHY!" She cries out to the rain,
as evil ghosts surround her, sucking
her into the monster of a creature,
making her tired and old,
killing her soul for no reason, biting my last and every
worry, and sucking me, the dreadful threat,
into the grave with my mother,
us going insain, for my father is like a apocolips.
We are dying, slowly, our hearts in vain, we are
now dead, deathful, mudered.