Blame the Victim

My soul bleeds through this tourniquet of flesh

Pours out through my pores onto the floor

A hero dies, a criminal funeral

Everyone is so goddamn cynical

He has killed one hundred times

Only a few were innocent

Saved more lives than any God

In the end his demons took over

It's what everyone will remember

Everyone except me

View carcass's Full Portfolio
Blackwingedbird's picture

We walk narrow lines when we

We walk narrow lines when we try to live as the mighty.