The blade's new wrought, after so long
He never thought, he'd sing this song
That they may see, This boy they spite
Could never be, a soul so white

With hateful words, all speaking truth
Like brutal swords, sharp and uncouth
They show their souls, to be so bright
While his is full, of hate and spite

He has no joy, to contemplate
For this one boy, this mean estate
Is due and just, another phase
Accept, he must, his chaotic ways

Truly he's weak, he cannot deny
Nor can he speak, of reasons why
He hoped for life, when death was due
The bloody knife, all that ensues

They may have tilled, and planted hate
But didn't seal, this one boy's fate
His choice today, to draw the blood
And fade away, with no tears shed