A. W. Nutter
The earth, hard and cold
Barefoot and bleeding
Lamb escaping the fold
Tired of all the beatings
Seeking warmth and shelter
Before my body succumbs
To the harshness of winter
Father death will soon come
Lungs begging for rest
As I cross an icy stream
Heart racing in my chest
Swallowing my screams
Pale light in the distance
Salvation, moments away
Standing at the entrance
Hoping they’ll let me stay
Door opens, I see my molester
Warming himself by their fire
Playing the role of the jester
Eyes betray his sadistic desire
Darkness consumes reality
As into her depths I descend
A child loosing his sanity
Freedom finding a bitter end
