Where Even a Wolf Would Rescue His Whelp
Where even a wolf would rescue his whelp
You were too busy laughing up your sleeve
Only you were in a position to help
But that would give Mother unwished reprieve
She'd played so perfectly into your game
Pushing me down so I'd avoid your Fate
You could hang her now in red noose of Blame
Though you lose a son in campaign of Hate
Redeem yourself after, you had the chance
Instead you turned the fiery sword on me
And skewered my soul with your flaming lance
For this you'll be hanged on Hell's burning tree
    For not saving me from undeserved Death
    Eternal flames await you at your last breath.
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