JUSTICE IS BLIND BUT OURS IS MENS

maybe this is the hell, from their own creation to be saved God failed

Never look in the eyes, 

If they speak, bury them under the lies. 

And if it's the dark,

It'll be your fault, even if they are the ones who larked. 

Hand covered with blood, but sons of the mothers are always wise,

Boys will be boys; what a dominance under a guise!!

Wrap yourself in Raggs, 

Never show your skin, cause inhibition is what they lack. 

The blatant faces and their hand, 

On my chest and thigh, accidentally they land,

In the crowd, temple, road, and in the bus.

Not because of the dark but because of Reaper;

Always on Rush. 

Still, all is always our fault,

Do we need to kill for them to halt?

Words of explanation, 

From the throat full of rust.

It'll be an act of attention if our anger burst. 

Rather than on their daughter, 

In other sons, our fathers have more trust, 

Other than living as a girl, what could be worse?