I hate so much that I am burned
Scorched inside and torched without
A hollow fried out husk that walks
And stumbles in a sightless day.
Hear the song of fallen men
That died while trying to protect
Things that don’t exist at all
And things they never knew themselves.
They raise their hearts to call their voice
And as the chorus shakes the ground
The tears of mothers fill the sea
And crying gives their grief a sound.
Those left living aren’t alive
And I among the walking dead
Cannot feel the ground with feet
And cannot find myself a bed.
Death will come for me one day
And I will have no cause to stall
I long for her in every way
Let the reaper make the call.