Lovely Thing

It is such a lovely thing. Through rain and sun it will bring. Though mildly sad when they cling. Cling to the lost. Deny the cost. Sadness over what it caused. It is a lovely thing. Oh it is such a lovely thing. Is that the way to hear them sing? Abducted Imprisoned. Slain and cried in vain. Like it will force the feeling of shame? For some it is all the same. It is a lovely thing. To hear the wails in full swing. For I am now their king. Then they die. It is with a great sigh. They are ended thereby. Abducted. Imprisoned. It is those briefest moments. They cry for atonements. They plead for postponements. But the power is mine over them. The mercy is mine to deny. Before I make their loved ones cry. Before I kill, and then pass on by.