The Unforgiven

A dark street in heavy suburbia,
All things beyond the laws of sanity.
As hunger tears through the loftiest of dreams,
Morals crucified on the poverty tree.

A loaf of bread, a sip of clean water,
The calloused palms of reality ask.
A dirty bed, laced with brutality,
The stones on the pavement in sorrow bask.

Blood thicker than porridge,thinner than water,
Hearts colder than frosty storms.
The richer they are,the farther they seem,
To the soiled babe, in the nest of thorns.

Does time heal the wounds that the unforgiven yeild,
Does sympathy quench the dark thirst of pain.
Repentance, is it a stalk frowing in my field?
That grew from unsowed grains of sin.

A child born in the garbage of pleasures,
Can life really find him.
He decides to go look for life on his own,
and returns back with strife behind him.

The cup runneth over, with storms in his head,
Cannibals biting at his heels, biting at his bread.
Unearthly intervention, repentence for sin?
and dies on the unforgiven, as humanity lays down dead.