FicWad

Switchblade cyanide,
Fight to get out alive,
Someone put a knife to your throat,
Slashes that made you lose all hope,
A blurred vision of falling red,
A sudden fear of waking up dead,
Impossibilities that make no sense,
Each engulfed by the sudden suspense,
A traitor committed an act of treason,
But the protests said he was shot for no reason,
As the pendulum swings to and fro,
No one knows on which side to go,
So instead, a crowd slips slowly away,
And hides in the shadows, where they’ll stay,
Until they stop lying, hiding, pretending,
Hoping, longing, dying, defending,
But one day, someday, maybe tomorrow,
I lead them out, those sheep, they’ll follow,
I’ll line ‘em up and shoot ‘em down,
Laugh as blood pools on the ground,
And fire a bullet into my own ice cold brain,
I’m surprised you hadn’t worked out that I’m insane.