The bruises never healed, nor did they fade.And so before your loathesome doctrine
your heavy hand and that dark hall
will never leave me.
But I am no longer a defenseless child.
The sting of your attack is nothing
compared to the torment I feel
when I think of the way you destroyed her.
Your commitment of love was a vulgar lie,
the sorrow of a thousand deaths is what she feels,
feels stinging her soul,
you were never there,
and that emptiness turned to rage.
I swore those battered eyes would never cry,
shed another tear.
I’m not your legacy.
I refuse this inheritance.
I’m not your legacy.
I refuse, I refuse.
The day I read her heart
I could have taken your life.
You preyed upon that brittle spirit
like the coward you really are.
And now this well is tainted with hate,
you brought this winterlike cold upon yourself.
And you wonder why you grieve?
34 years ago her sentence began.
Your violence and his silence would not persuade me.
What would have happened if I’d pulled the trigger
when I stood in that dark hall…
in that same dark hall…
What would have happened if I had put a stop to the pain
then put a stop to her suffering?
Put a stop to our suffering?
Raze your fields of contempt.