Oh, you wretched fool.
You swine, you fiend.
Can't you see what you've done by growing this seed?
A ray of darkness you shine upon it.
A watering of bitter, sour tears will make it grow.
You have sown what you have wraught.
A growing machine of hate.
A growing tyrant born to discriminate.
A growing seed of death.
The ReckoningA Poem by MattrickkI wrote this randomly.© 2009 MattrickkAuthor's Note
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