weapon
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Smooth wooden handle
6 inches, nearly 10 when flicked open
to reveal stainless steel
The blade marred only by a few oily fingerprints
and a speck of brown
It smells of dust
and of dried blood
What a beautiful weapon she is.
She's the sharpest edge and the prettiest sight,
The softest, sweetest bringer of night,
And all with a teasing kiss.
What a beautiful, beautiful weapon she is.
We are the unfortunate ones,
The ones forged by ash and claimed by fire,
The ones whose whispers they hear as they dance through the blood red sky,
Holding back,
No longer allowing slack
Pulling in the reigns
On this issue that is causing me so much pain
If I could create a world, would color be in it?
I run in the ice I run for the sun The frost did follow I was the only one
I thought if I keep going And I don't make a stand It'll all mean nothing No matter how far I ran
You want an idea of human rights,but are you ready to listen to the fights.Listen, listen carefully to my rhymes,about the absurd things occurring in prime time.You know about these absentees,
Cold metal is no longer terror,
‘Till cold metal becomes warm,
Cold metal is her weakness,
Yet a friend that always warns.
Bang, bang.
No sleeping tonight.
The Sand Man won't come,
No child will dream.
Blasphemy on sight.
In one minute
many things can happen
choices are made
deals are done
decisions are reached
and life changes irreparably
Whole room grew quiet as your mother cried.
"He's been killed," they said, "execution style."
She'd just found out her first-born son had died,
Crime scene so gruesome and bloody and vile.
I wish my phone would ring
I call home, waiting alone, dial tone screams
my mind's cold behind this blindfold of space and time
I can't escape it I'm
waiting
and like a fine rope this line holds
The destruction it leaves
the people who grieve
Is it worth it to have
a weapon that leaves people so sad?
We need them to hunt
we need them to survive
but some people just have them
