Howl for Justice
He is a fly in a web, a bug in a trap, a man in a snare, a man in my snare, in my snare, in my snare.
I watch him, and he squirms, and it is sweet, and it is beautiful, and it is terrible, and it is wonderful.
I am silent, and it kills him, and it kills him, and I am silent.
He is not.
“Just something I’ve been thinking about with this new case,” I say, and it hits him like I know it will, like I know it should, like I know it does, like I know, like I know, like I know.
Bab Populer