War and Peace

How many time must I say, For nothing shows out from this hell,
The things I say I must, For me to be safe from the earth,
Born from out of spite, and never seen for all of time,
Heard within the rain of night, Brought out by a holy birth,
Spitting fire from the mouth, By field of war we search,
Staring at me from upon your deathly perch,

And by the light of dying fire, Seen in shadows, but nothing more,
For demons hide there, Seen by all walks of nothing there,
Never seeing son of man, Hunted till’ there’s nothing left,
Hurt by thy father’s hand, Many of ungrateful stare,
Sleek and beautiful you, Gives me strength by anger’s flare,
Because I’m still out there somewhere,

The ungodly sight of field turned red, By brother’s hand brought down on father’s throat,
Shipped to uncharted land, And sent to fight by bloodied mud,
A fight of ultimate hate of mortal’s breath, Never seen by most, but felt by all,
The final sigh from son’s broken breast, Accompanied by all under holy sun,
Your the end and the beginning, Of all our lives until we’re done,
Confused out of grateful love,

When nothing matters in head of young and hated child, stolen from the mind of lovers hope,
Names muttered while fast asleep, fight against my better judgment,
And when you get lost, Bring your prayers to the man on the moon,
Dreams in piles, discarded and forgot, The one brought up by predjiment,
Alone you are, if you aren't in, Fought against by covenant,
To be remembered by your testament, Against all because of your resent,

Magical fight of sacred deathly stance, Given all to the cause of us,
The great parts of it were hardly seen, Scarcely heard amidst the screams below,
For it is us, the great crusader’s army march upon the holy land,
For the greater something's lust, Till’ it is the end I know,
Faintly heard the screams of man, Loving neighbors deceased from river’s flow
Until at last the screams become muffled by the fresh falled’ snow,

Amidst the combat machines of old, Grown over with life and death,
The greater parts of my life are yet to come, So welcome to inside of my head,
Where the words come in shape, and inspiring thoughts come to life,
The old ideas become undrape’, Held together by thinnest thread,
Slowly overflowing with stresses vast, Impacted by every step I tread,
To get my thoughts all widespread.
But in between the fight of life, And through the longest nights of pain,
There is good, A moment for a hundred years crying,
But if we could just put down the sword, And pick up the rose,
Oh if people could just keep their word, In respect of where our path goes,
And within the cries of soldiers dying, With the newborns gentle sighing
And finally my brother hope is flying,

And over here do I exclaim, of fires light, and death by flame,
Says soldiers eyes with tears of dreary, from within the dark and erie,
And from the seeds of madness grow, sadness first, then stable home,
And just as I feel my worth slip into me, hear I a cry of within thee,
A scream of rage, and from the underneath, slips my chances to be free,
And sinks my ship to ocean vast, as it let's go into the past,

Back in my chair of blood and bone, within my house, my finest home,
I think of love and where I stand, to have her see and understand,
And as friends we flew like doves, but I don’t think it works like that with love,
With your earthborn eyes of soulful past, finding salvation in woeful blast,
And by the light of dying stars, I see my future, yours and ours,
So wait for me while I learn to breathe, make the future you and me,

In my bed of wood not carved, Within my bloodied heart of barbs,
And in my overloaded life of broken choir’s voice, not ever seen without a choice
And even when I show my happy side, the wall thats built by eventide,
An impenetrable force of broken heart, mutters an inaudible spoken start,
If they find out what I can become, I’ll be taken and I’ll never learn to love,
Because I’m not ready to try, It’s not because I am scared to die, Just don’t forget to move on for me and fly,

What I feel in morning after fight, “I’m fine” I say and laugh of spite,
With bruises where I stumbled, and cracks from where I crumbled,
Cus’ I’m still learning to fly, because I’m so scared to touch the sky,
For I’ve never been fine, but I still walk through this endless game of life,
And even though my lip is always curled, I wouldn't trade my whole life for the world.