The Wild Child
My past was violent.
My world was quaint.
They made me a demon,
instead of a saint.
My past was full of cruelty.
They called it love.
I only felt the darkness,
as they preached from above.
They said I was a sinner,
that I should change my ways.
Whilst I cried with fury,
I hoped, an end to my days.
They shackled my wrists,
and tried to warp my mind.
Telling me, in Gods love,
freedom I would find.
With pride and arrogance,
they did this to a child.
They tried to birth a sheep.
Born rather, an animal that is wild.
-Angel Fatale-
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