WITHOUT QUESTION, THE WICKED AND THE WEARY

Dead on arrival

And the departed

Lost it at the last moment

Coming on, going down

Made to love, made to

bleed

Left alone, lead astray and

made to understand why

The shamed and the shameless

All the same, either way

it meant nothing, nothing at all

The wishful and the sinful

Wicked ways, wasted all away

The played and the plaintive

The homicidal, the suicidal

and the criminal minded

And the lunatic that lurks

inside us all

A murder and a life untold

Murderous intent without

reason

And a need to understand why

Born to kill, born a killer,

Always a killer

A need to survive

Flight and fight

Death came easy in the final

moment

Without virtue or honor

Just an instinct to kill or be killed

No remorse, a second thought

Just a cold blooded killer