Knives That Kill
It always seems to be,
The more that I love,
The more I sympathize,
And wish to send them to above.
This world is cruel,
No doubts in my mind.
So they wish not to stay,
Lest they turn blind.
I only wish your happiness,
So please, do not run.
You will grow much happier,
When I am done.
People say I'm crazy,
More than a little mad.
But if they could show you,
I'm sure they would be glad.
I think of it at times,
This blade in my hand.
But it is the feeling I get,
That makes it so grand.
This feeling it pulls me,
Driving me along.
I wish to stop it at times,
But the feelings so strong.
Its the rush you get,
That overwhelmed thrill.
The feeling of freedom,
To see their blood spill.
It seems as a curse,
Blinding so I cannot see.
So I feel that I must,
I MUST set them free.
So what can one say?
Yes, I have my will.
Yet it is not I,
Its these knives that kill.