Angry Black Words


Standing in front of the man that must die,
with hands that are trembling and tears I can’t cry.
The scene plays in my mind, the same everyday;
these angry black words that I simply can’t say.

No one to save me, no kind words to give,
when killing seemed better than letting him live.
Regrets that won’t leave me and ghosts that won’t fade,
I’ll never atone for the mistakes that I’ve made.

A melody plays, but the words are unclear.
Your voice tries to guide me, but I cannot steer.
The places you tell me are just in my dreams,
bleed into my waking, or that’s how it seems.

I tell him I’m sorry, his eyes remain cold.
I keep quiet in his house and do as I’m told.
The morning cracks open every day to more pain.
There are so many things that I’ve tried to explain.

We’re not going to make it, I feel it’s true.
I can’t make him better, whatever I do.
I’ve killed his defender, his master, his friend.
They say that some wounds are just too deep to mend.

Childhood has gone, and now I am left
with a crying protector that only wants death.
I made him unhappy and now I must pay
for the angry black words that I made him say.