Dye you Red

So beautiful is your outer shell
But with a heart as forgiving as hell
And a pride made of iron.

You don't deserve
The wealth you clutch
Yet you have so much
And you refuse to share.

Because of your greedy lust for power
You will see your final hour
For in my hand I bare
An escape for the innocent you snare.

In my hand
Is what god should have bestowed on you
The day your eyes grew cold.

In my hand
I carry vengeance without pity
That I have wished to show you
Since so very long ago.

In my hand
I hold your worthless little life
As you have refused every strife.

So I carry, I carry this knife
So I can see if your blood is truly made of ice.

No tear for you will be shed
Even after I dye you red.