A heart wrenching recollection of what treachery I have undergone.
Words: I’m trying as hard as I possibly can but I’m starting to feel like I’m less of a man the pressure is practically shaking my hand like I’m meeting it for the first time, even worse I’m accepting the gesture like a cursed mime -
I was trimming my beard with a battle axe feeling the blade, as the hours past tugging my mane, now I’m going insane cause I could’t get the sides to match
it didn’t matter which way I maneuvered the blade they were too different, the pain it emitted was lame, I admit I was slain it was a shame, I had to just give in and shave
I’m hoping and praying to brodin he can forgive my blasphemous ways I guess I have to walk down this path of dismay with the bricks that I’ve gradually laid may he reign down the worse razor burn on me as punishment, while I fear of him and just wait to grow back this luscious beard again….
