Its days like these, that drop me to my knees, like a wilted apples falling from the trees.

Its days like these, when all I see are the faces of the people that took me to these dark places.

It's days like these, that have me praying in the streets, as I struggle to swallow the defeat that took him from me.

Its days like these, when you should be scared and praying for my sanity too, that I don't just snap, and come and get you.

Its days like these, that remind me, sometimes blood doesn't make you family at all, especially those that hoped to see me fall so they could take what is most sacred.

Its days like these that I write your obituaries, over and over in my mind, but I can never find the right words, that are hateful enough to describe theiving little worms.

It's days like these that remind me that you are cursed, and that you arent worth my soul, soon enough the devil will be your master, for you worship false doctrine and steal children, you're both a nightmare and a disaster.

Its days...