The Game
here we are again
Always staring down that barrel of that gun
This battle has just begun
A War of a treasonous son
The death of so many on our hands
powerless we are
one by one they fall
marching to the top of it all
A weakness is but our strength under the cover darkness
here we are again
Its time fix things
They way I should of so long ago
Buried under the snow
The drifts blow
slowly a picture starts to show
its a face with no name
Its a plan so honest
that it cant be done without modesty
its more of the fickle irony
that constantly plagues me
here we are again
stirring a pot red hot
just to see what I really got
no longer a pretender
but a true defender
for everything there's something good
its chaos its order
its balancing yourself walking down the rails
the rust ages and get pail
but still the metal stays true
solid steel is what I'm about to wield
from the fires of heaven and earth
hell doesn't seem much worse
here we are again
friends that have a common goal
time to move on
everything has fallen to head
a stop in mid air
doing cartwheels in the despair
not even close to being scared
devils beware we are here
to stay to get in the way
to change the way games is to be played
no matter the hate
I will walk away
feeling okay
a foretold future is opened when you go back to the past
wounds that are but mere scars
on our souls buried deep within
forgiving is to be living
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poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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