THE OPEN MIC CYPHER

[Truth Iscariot]

^ wrists bounded my victim gazes back astounded
It's profound this murderous feeling by which I'm hounded
There's a eerie sound which counts down the seconds to her demise
In her eyes I see no bravery only her souls muffled cries
That imply I'm the one in the wrong I smack her, strong, for the lie
In time you'll see that he'll with me is golden some type of prize
You have won righteous torment by the hate inside which lay dormant
For millennia....