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Victim


So Complex

In His Behavior

Crowded Into A

Hole

Racial Incoherence

Nowhere Left to Go

Misery: Is Unforgiving

He Struggles From Within

He Roams The Human Wasteland

His Memories Grow Dim

Shots

Ring Out Loud

Dispursing The Crowd

Bodies Start to Fall

Blood on the Wall

No Time to Tell

Who's Going to

Heaven or Hell

The Acid Air

Blurs His Vision

City Crime

Takes It's Toll

A Metaphor

For This Incision

A Truer Life

Will Now Unfold

No More Pain

And Self Suffering

It All Ends

Where It Begins

A Universe On This Wavelength

Will Transmutate

In Other Things

The Moment Comes

To Eradicate

A Time to Cleanse

The World

This Is Self Illusion

This Has No Conclusion

A. 38 Hangs from His Hand

His Shoulders Slung Kind of Low

Smoking Shells Lay on The Floor

As The Blood Starts to Flow

The Sirens Scream Outside The Door

Police Running to The Scene

Inside A Man Stands All Alone

His Face Grinning Obscene

Front Line Assembly

Victim / Front Line Assembly

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