The Battle
Android & Truth Iscariot
This past week has been a blur to me, and Sarge it hurts you see...
that it feels like an eternity since anyone spoke an happy word to me
I've seen lifelines cut like marionettes, it's a nerve-shattering effect
when we're meant to be prepared but... it's basically an average test.
Guns thrust in arms, bayonets to stab words of change into the opposition
is this happening? I wouldn't know if I'd not been briefed on the mission
I'm not sure what's right any more, hell I'm not sure what's wrong either
People say I look like I've seen a ghost, but it's those ghosts I fight for.
and I'm not saying it's not had it's moments, comrades are always open
but hearing the innocents cry at night is not something I had any hope in.
So to end the strife and these abstract nights that seem to pass right by them
I hope to be as hardened as the people around me when the bullets come flying
No name, no target. Just a bullet without a name, cutting the air like lightning
I don't blame them though, if positions reversed, I'd fight for hope of surviving.
A legion of skeletons, the life sucked right out of their skin through the pores
I'd say we've lost a lot of men...
but the government were aware this would happen when they started this war.
So I'll man the guns, kill the enemy all to share a sweet slice of unrivalled peace
and say my prayers to the sunset as it slowly makes it's way back to the East.
I’m in the belly of the beast – this setting causes me grief
Befallen are beliefs into a grave beside a dying sea
Hoping out here is deadly; It can mean your death
Woe unto those walking with me, hope is all they have left
How can we lie to ourselves and say this mission is blessed?
We are the vessels of carnage, the desert rat varmints
Marching toward Armageddon as sand rips apart our garments
The harshness of the weather starts to tarnish
The will once thought safe and guarded
Now the only protection known is the rifle I’m armed with
How can I, without God or refuge, withstand this carnage?
I am a d shack waiting to be toppled by a strong wind
And crash down on the inhabitants that cower within
I am the center of the storm as rampage commences
And I am the softly spoken prayer often recited in these instances
I am death and life
I am hope and strife
I am cloak and knife
Daggers are distinctively more dangerous at night
Wrongs will remain until brought to justice by the right
Like darkness will remain until someone hits the light
Verse 1 - @Android
Verse 2 - @Truth isariot
Reply With Quote
