(God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.)
With your last breath you breathe your first taste of death. Behold, your life amounts to nothing, and you shall see no more.
(The courage to change the things I can)
Your strength leaves you, as weakness engulfs your body. Behold, your time has run out as you escape this world.
(And the wisdom to know the difference today.)
It's the predator's first taste of blood. His eyes portray the wild. His nostrils flair in excitement... He's hooked.
It's the murderer's first kill. His eyes form his twisted smile, his breath quickens in the rush... It's not his last.
Let life prevail?
Hell no!
What's the fun in that?
Mikey found a way to kill,
And to avoid the jail cell.
Mikey's rush entraps his soul,
His guilt,
It's turned to guilty pleasure.
His goal is fulfilled,
His thirst quenched for now.
Who shall be the next victim?
Who shall he paralyze next?
What will come in due time?
Who's family shall he soon vex?
The rush of being caught
Inside his corner,
Will return with the report,
Of an honest coroner,
But the power of paper shall keep him safe...
Mikey's on his edge
Facing his worst fear
But not alone
For his paper trail has been cleared.
Crimes against humanity
Are no reason to trap the beast;
His killer instinct has paved....
The way for his release. |