Your wicked tongue,
It speeks much evil.
Your pallid face,
You give no hope,
No strength,
Your weakness collides.
You\'re nothing but a liar,
A dirty-mouth,
And a show-off.
You give no support,
But pride.
Your mercy goes to you only,
Which shows your hate.
Hate is what you get back,
After the back-stabs,
And the tortures you gave.
Now no one cares of your fate,
Your trifling,
Even if you die,
You are now spoken by bane words.
But yet I forgive your lies,
And your back-stabs that hurt.
I forgive your derisiveness,
Your barbarous,
And yet your treachery...
I forgive you.
For that is what God would do.