An age he will never commemerate.
An epitaph wasn't made for the son whose
Mother was an unfortunate one and whose
Father was a rapist
Curled in the corner of his cell.
A burden to some and a blessing by others.
Plugged into a wall socket by a cord barely holding on.
He prayed every moment that his mother would
From the bloodly walls that held him in,
Hoping for her embrace moment by moment.
But, Mother wanted
To do with him.
She was able to authorize his execution.
It was close enough to legal.
Mother was saddened to do it, but she couldn't
Live with the memory of the Accident
In her son's eyes.
The Doctor came
The Serum injected
That was the Doctor's order.
Inside the prison walls,
He was contemplating what sights he'd see
Once he'd open his eyes.
Then he felt it.
He tasted his burning flesh.
Clawing to crawl out,
Gums gnaw at the feeling
Of holocaustal success.
Still connected to a wall socket,
He could't kick anymore.
Mother knew it was finished.
That's all she could do.
The sun set twice.
Scissors sat next to the bathroom sink.
As sharp as they are, Not even they
Could forsee what they'd do tonight.
Mother had to urinate.
Before she knew it, He came.
A prisoner released attached
To a wall socket inside.
Mother couldn't bear the sight.
He coudn't see anything.
Not the color of his seared skin
Or the terror in Mother's eyes.
That's all the scissors remember.
Cut from his noose
"A free man"
Mother buried him in the bowl
Where she laid her waste to rest.