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Prison song

Jennibeth Ramos

And there he was sitting on a rock

while everyone was dying.

And on his hand was a torch,

he set the fire, he set it off.

He stood and feed on the flame

while everyone ate dust.

I clutched my fist, taking the blame,

and blood from my nails flood the ground

The torch, he raised it above,

mocking Lord Darkness' reign.

"You are not free, you are mine!"

His voice sliced the silence of the night.

Suddenly, a shot echoed from behind.

His heart was ripped, pouring black blood.

The sheriff sang the prison song:

"They're not yours, from me they belong!"

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