Little red I thought you dead? Thought the wolves in sheep skin tricked you again, thought their hunger to bring you down had ended you friend.
But here you are... Bloody knife and all, when their lies couldn't penetrate through, the pack of empty broken lies once blended in saying lover and friends.
Then once blood fell here comes the feist again, no more cover to hide the intention, when the sinful speak out in innocents?
But you did not run, you did not even try to ruin a name, just hoped that sense and peace remained, but some times you must kill to be free.
When the pack all shared a similar act, that in their lives you had deeply impact, but you can't own a soul or try to make it your own.
When a friend is just that, in their lives with good intentions walk along, because we are all sheep down here, but once in a while you'd run into false people who arent what they say is true.
And no one is perfect, but to aim to make someone look worthless, shows yours... When a wolf well separate you before he eats you.
So little red I'm glad you broke through, when your purpose in life is very graceful, known of your falls as well... You at least clawed from your hell.
And as much as they tried to bring darkness on top of you, there is no longer a shadow where your standing little red, now that wolves are all dead.
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