Slaughtered mess on my front porch
Dead neighbor screaming
A faceless child in the street
A funeral for every morning
Awoken in a puddle of blood
Naked and confused
It isnt his blood, it isnt her blood
He is the killer, the wolf
Not a man!
A wretched thing
There is nowhere in the night
To search for blood,
To live my wretchedness,
To craft my killings,
To live a life of torment