Is it past torment
Or insecurity
One hand on the baton
The other crumbles the law doctrine

Unhinge your sense of right and wrong
Inject a sense of who owes whom
Let the lack of father
Humiliated by another
Determine whether you judge this one man

With a swift strike
Now empty mind

A rush of adrenaline
Yields black out rage
Let this abuse escape
You decide their fate
For this black gift is imposed
On the diseased
Broken judgement for any crime
Makes a god with a badge to hide behind

A broken feeble toy
Of a militant system
Make them feel they do not belong
Mentally Ill, deaf or indigent
Make them feel the might
Of the militant
As the ones that police
You're the most damaged
A cracked society
Of the most challenged
May you find your death
At the end of your own barrel
A fitting end
To a life born broken
Then raised on a pedestal
Of lies and corruption

Let the cleanse of the wicked begin

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