Mother and son

My brother,
He made me sad.
He made me sad,
For being glad.

I never fail
To fail success.
He made that clear,
Now I obsess.

He has killed
My death filled life,
So I killed his,
But with a knife.
It went through
His thoughtless mind,
In drear beauty,
Undefined.

Once again,
It hurts to mend
Fixed mistakes
We both intend.


My mother,
She made me glad,
She made me glad
For being sad.

We hid him,
Mother, and son.
We've purged the past,
Rejoined as one.

Now we bond
And share passion,
Without a care
For compassion.
That is how
We have been made
By the bodies,
Our lemonade.

Once again,
We have made use
Of what was brought
from life's noose.

We've killed them,
We've killed them all,
We've killed them all together,

Mother and son.