They knew not the corpse they slain, even as it bled,
The monster in the ambient nightmare resurrected,
Forged in flame and doused in potent gasoline,
Left for dead in fire and vitriol, infected.
They knew not the casket that they filed with a body,
The slivers left in their flesh from its weight their only proof,
The dirt left caked on their soul-less shoes the reminder,
Of the heart they crushed and left lost and aloof.
They knew not the hope they drowned in sorrow,
Or the optimism they crushed without a care,
Silent the killer, even moreso the victim interred,
Without even a stone to mark the place of the soul laid there.
They knew not the angel they created with their crime,
The Prince reborn of grace so remarkable and well,
The heart they tried to kill and send to listless eternity,
Is now reincarnated into its glory from that hell.
They knew not the foolish decision they had made,
They knew not the person deep within they threw away,
They knew not the resilience that resides within my soul,
My happiness will come in spite of them all... one day.
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