There he goes again,
The Murderer of Blue Skies.
Destroy your cheery smile.
Remove the twinkle in your eyes.
He casts the darkest clouds.
No time to empathize.

Mortal through and through,
without the need to be better
couldn’t catch a break.
He had to leave the shelter.
With hair past his chest
and an old broken lighter
he passed his life on
neglecting to be a fighter.

Silver, stolen syringes,
broken beer bottles,
a lonely gunshot,
cars with no throttle.

A good gift is a useful gift.
Use a good gift to be good.
Or drag across the earth,
useless as driftwood.

Amid a life of poor fortune,
there came a silver lining.

He knew it was wrong.
He knew what it’d do.
He knew how it’d ****.
But from his point of view...
it was a second chance
and he has business to attend to.

His hatred grew and grew,
killing the hopes of those around him.

The monster was created
to silence the hopes of joy.
Survived by wicked thoughts
in this simple minded boy.
Sent clouds throughout the world
with one intention: to destroy.

The clouds did not hurt to touch,
but their fumes killed the fun.
No one felt happy anymore,
some shot themselves with a gun,
others sought mental help;
the end had begun.

The Murderer of Blue Skies
sings in the rainfall.
The Murderer of Blue Skies
is within us all.