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In times of great tragedy, when you feel like there is no where to always turn to God.
To the most devout.

As the Columbine Killer played out the final act of his show, folks who were previously unaware now felt the pain.
They felt the effects of one man's decisions.

Gun Control.
False Flags.
Prejudice birthed thru Stereotyping.

The world would never be the same.

And all you could ask is "Where is your God?? What type of merciless God brings so much pain and anguish to those he loves?"

...and she felt it too.
Juana grew up with her parents until she was eight.
She too was beaten.
Emotionally, physically and sexually.
Her father did it.
Her mother let him.
She knew no one "really loved" anyone else.
Just like Juan did.

The state took her away, not because of the terrible parenting conditions.
Because of her actions.
She couldn't take it anymore.
She was constantly fighting with others in school.
She cared as much as everyone else...which to her was not at all.
She was locked away. Just like Juan.

Only it wasn't a shed in the backyard. It was an institution where they tried to cure her by feeding her chemicals.
Instead of giving her what she needed.

She read the stories.
She seen the love Juan had, and how it was never returned.
This was her life.
He was her savior.
And it was her job, to finish what he began....


Headline reads "Columbine killers last kill"//
Caption on the picture left readers at a stand still//
"Avoided capture destroying half a city block"//
Devil in the details was it included fifty cops//
Swat team, neighbors quite a few families//
Black ink blood red makes it so you can not read//
Any more but furious folks just can't turn away//
So the AP presses on making writers Earn their pay//
Interviews with survivors found in the vicinity//
To first responders who've tried ta drown their own miseries//
In a bottles bottom it seriously boggles noggins//
You wanna remember people and leave Evil all forgotten//
Can't have light without dark forever their fused together//
Its in white & black contrast feels better In tuned for measures//
Pleasure pain part of the brain what else can it be//
loves thin line crossed what you call insanity//

Head up staring off left feeling Fairly odd//
Down to your last bit of faith thinking where's your God//
Feeling guilt built in that's a line you wouldn't dare to cross//
Either way seems we can't win when we bear a loss//

This was her bible the story of her savior//
Someone who understood her pain was core to her behavior//
That rage bubbling troubled men local government//
Would have her locked in a cage - like when he was younger and//
Pump her with prescriptions so she kept it hidden//
Her hideous insidious mission to bid Good riddence//
To those that never cared enough how could they dare to bluff//
Never asked to be born to a home that din't share its love//
hellish hand to be dealt shed be damned if she fell//
Victim to another abusive man straight from hell//
A romance on the rocks straight up shots to the face//
Over the bridge by 13 left a monster in place//
Where once stood a little girl heart hardened by hatred//
The trait started as part of a marred, scarred up relation//
Cuts and bruises healed but left a sore spot deep inside//
The monster returned to burn the bridge she seemed to leave behind//


from Murder He Wrote: A Love Story, released April 20, 2013
Prod. By MaulSkull



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Mane Rok Denver, Colorado

Many lesson's have been learned along the path of creation...the most important...don't stop creating.

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