Blame.

I'm lost shaken, and torn.
I don't know how to mourn anymore,
I've lost all who are close and all who I love,
I'm sick of beating myself against the door.

I struggle each day persevering to get by,
I then struggle not having to cry.
I just want to know, why, oh why did they have to die!?
Why can't anyone give me a reply!?

I'm sick of this word, I'm sick of this life.
The last person to die was my only wife.
And all that gives is just more strife.
Are you happy God with what you've done?

You've destroyed my life, and now I'll pull out my gun.
You've given me too much pain to bear,
That's just resulted in more despair.

You've twisted my heart and made it black,
Of course God, you didn't give me any slack,
You're nothing to me but an empty sack,
Why can't I stop having these painful flashbacks!

I'm nothing now because of you,
You expect me to have a simple breakthrough?
I tried; I tried, to get back to you,
Then what did you do?

You took my family which really hurt,
Then you gave me a big alert.
My wife died next, which hurt even more.
I cremated my wife and sent her out to shore.

I kept waiting for you to restore the pain,
Only to realize I have nothing to gain,
Here I am holding a cloth of my wife's bloodstain,
Out in the cold with the feeling of acid rain.

I wish you'd fix those chains that were broken,
You take my family and my wife,
Which then, led me into this lowlife.

My final words are coming near,
You've made all so unclear.

I'm sick of this world, I'm sick of this life.
The last person to die ewas my only wife.
Are you happy God with what you've done?

You've destroyed my life, and now I'll pull out my gun.

Copyright (c) 2009 written by me.