I am a killer who feels pity for those she
killed.
I wonder if this killing will ever end.
I hear the cries of the victims I took every
waking moment.
I see myself killing them, over and over again.
I want to just be myself, not a killer, again.
I am a killer who feels pity for those she
killed.

I pretend I am normal, but inside, I am not.
I feel tortured by all those crying souls.
I reach out in my dreams for the dead or dying.
I worry I will always feel hate.
I cry for lost souls.
I am a killer who feels pity for those she
killed.

I understand that good will come from evil, but I
don't like it.
I say, "I'll go," but inside, I don't want to.
I dream that suddenly, I am not the killer but
the killed, and it feels
better that way.
I try to imagine a world without death, but I
fail.
I hope this killing will end, but I know it
won't.
I am a killer who feels pity for those she
killed.