The blade is word, the scars his life
His words unheard, spoken with a knife
That they may see, his bloodied wrist
Is what he seeks, much needed rest

With hateful words, they sealed his fate
The brutal swords, edged with their hate
Their spite was true, it struck his heart
And tore the glue, of his life apart

He never had joy, it was a myth
This lonely boy, has called it quits
His heart's not torn, his eyes aren't crazed
Due to the storm, his eyes are glazed

He was truly weak, none can deny
The truth they speak, of his hate and lies
His heart was mist, and overfilled
He cut his wrist, let the blood spill

They tilled the earth, HE sowed the seed
Ended his worth, and couldn't see
That his heart, couldn't be quelled
Due to his spite, he burns in Hell