Who Breeds a Wicked Son?

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By Loneliness is condescending

Murdering in daylight the ones he so gently put to sleep Leading the masses from the shadows where he prays Staring down that defiant soul in the bathroom mirror Rising up and army against himself Oh his honor he will not falter He swayed the hearts of millions his should be simple The weeping eyes that follow him around Pleading with him to seek forgiveness Is mind is weighed by the darkness If he could only wait for redemption He is a lie of me

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May 15, 2006 17:44lost the lonely dead

i dont know what to think of this one really, i'll have to go back and read it on a day when my head is a little more clear but i did kinda like the first line, grabbed at me suddenly