Spawn Of Possession

Darkened clouds was watching over the house
Father sleeping mother reading
From the good book to their child
Mother's in the rockinchair
By the fireplace reaching a fanatic stage
Preaching load and clear the words of delight
The child suppose to take pleasure instead
Felt sick and distressed
Glimpsed the axe, getting up from teh bed, grabs the tool get that crone
Unaware of he child behind the mother kept
Babbling while the child raised the axe
Struck hard, struck fast, must punish parent
Burst the crown in pieces, walls got
Draped with substance
Starring without a word
Purified from mothers nagging with full force
The child kept striking
Litter was now disposed
Kissed the rest of her cheek
Dropped the axe and tore her bible
Feeling fine...