I fear more what I am now,
Then what I may become.
For now, without regret,
I would gladly kill someone.
I touch my heart and try to walk,
Away from what I know.
I fear every living thing,
more than I will ever show.
They live a life with no regret,
As you can plainly see.
And what they choose, they choose it well,
And that is what they be.
Some kill with such precision,
I highly doubt they know,
That underneath their skin and bone,
Is what the dead do show.
Some play with what they have,
And never know their past,
Is what they should have played with,
For the future is now cast.
Others have no future,
Or a past of which to speak,
For they are the ones to die,
Cause they are truly weak.
This be the end of what I have,
But fear not my friend.
For soon I will write back,
And a messege I will send.
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