Imprissoned

What's 1 more beating, 1 more punch, 1 more kick?
You don't feel anything,
You've retreated.
You can't hear,
Their talk of who gets you first,
The ways they'll do you,
Or their leers.
It is bliss
You can't hear.

U've retreated,
U dont hear,
U dont feel.
U see ur dead parents,
Beconing you to the light.
U go, happily,
Never hearing,
The ribald talk that surrounds u.
Never feeling,
A punch or kick thrown your way.

U've retreated,
Curled up in a ball,
Huddled on the cold stone floor.
Never knowing,
Never caring,
If u see another person.
U don't eat,
That means coming out.
Something you would never do.

Ur parents becon,
U go to them,
Wanting to get forever closer to that white light.
And closer u get.
Caught up in a fever.
Condemned for a crime
She didn't commit.

A guard comes for u,
He takes u away,
U go willingly,
Happily,
Now the light, ur parents,
Are only a short distance away.

The noose closes around u,
U welcome it.
It tightens.
Ur soul flows free.
"Free at last," u sing, "Free at laaaaast!"