• Your wicked tongue,
    It speaks much evil.

    Your pallid face,
    You give no hope,
    No strength,
    Your weakness collides.

    You're nothing but a liar,
    A dirty-mouth,
    And a show-off.

    You give no support,
    But pride.
    Your mercy goes to you only,
    Which shows your hate.

    Hate is what you get back,
    After the back stabs,
    And the tortures you gave.

    Now no one cares of your fate,
    You're trifling,
    Even if you die,
    You are now spoken by bane words.

    But yet, I forgive your lies,
    And your back stabs that hurt.

    I forive your derisiveness,
    Your barbarousness,
    And your treachery...
    I forgive you.

    For that is what God would do.