I Am Dimitri Karamazov And The World Is My Father

So it starts, from one impurity held in place by
loveless security, always thron around and beaten
by squinted eyes that soon bear turned back,
abstract views through broken bottles of brandy.
I'm questioned all my life why I kept on saying
that I didn't even ask to be here, you made that
choice for me, enrolled me in your schools and
church and in your god forsaken military. What
cost do I pay for being born of you? My life,
enslaved by passions, held away from me. Who is my
mother? Where is her grace? Where is that subtle
joy I crave? It's gone, or should I say never
existed anyway. Through blurry winter clouds and
snow melted by anger - my subscription. my
addiction. If I had one love in the world : you
tried to take it away. pound of nuts is simply
not enough to keep my rage at bay and though i
didn't kill you. like you tried to do to me. I'm
just as guilty becauswe I would have wanted to be
free.