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Feed to the Hounds
Folder:
"Death is Your Patient Anxiety" Don't touch me
Don't you touch me
Ever
You're a rot on my soul
Your words defile
I might have been weak once
I'm no longer a child
You thought I was just your outlet
Focus for your impulse
A toy to be battered, belittled
I'm no longer your child
Don't touch me
Don't you touch me
Ever
You call yourself father
You're just a fucking monster
Molding a new generation
A culture for my hatred to foster
I'm ready to see you die
I'm hoping you suffer
Not a tear will flee from my eyes
For you
I'm not your jester
My anger's not a mear gesture
Slice you wide open
Lick your wounds til they fester
It's time to feed you to my hounds
No empathetic story
No ending that's profound
I'm ready to see you die
