Sent to the slaughter
The mirthless laughter
Fills the abattoir
It’s so cold, Father.
The gasps for breaths
The claws of despair
The bottomless pit fills
It’s so cold, Father.
The pain never dies
The tears never dry
The echoes sound off walls
It’s so cold, Father.
I have gotten used
To the cold and pain
The laughter and the rain
Don’t think you are real
After all, Father.
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