As a resource, tears are perfect waters to irrigate field of pain,
Ears evolve into deafness to the cries of dying souls when sounds of fired bullets become a familiar symphony,
Yet for every gone soul a ghost returns to reveal something more shocking than a bullet hole,
To reveal the truth in the statement, 'when you kill a man he becomes immortal,
As a testimony so true I say even the devil's heart grows not numb,
And though miles apart the gun always calls back the gunslinger,
Just like in days so dry battlegrounds thirst for blood, sweat and bodies to lay waste,
You can only perceive a being to be a hero of war if you know not the danger line at war.
Ears evolve into deafness to the cries of dying souls when sounds of fired bullets become a familiar symphony,
Yet for every gone soul a ghost returns to reveal something more shocking than a bullet hole,
To reveal the truth in the statement, 'when you kill a man he becomes immortal,
As a testimony so true I say even the devil's heart grows not numb,
And though miles apart the gun always calls back the gunslinger,
Just like in days so dry battlegrounds thirst for blood, sweat and bodies to lay waste,
You can only perceive a being to be a hero of war if you know not the danger line at war.
I say this in the light of those days when the demon hailing from death valley was a friend,
Memories of the days I held the title 'warrior' though in truth I was a hope destroyer,
Days that I devoted my energy to spear down the pride that praise stirs,
Times when every ounce of energy was muscled towards a glorious eulogy,
Now drowned in blood I shed at war I raise waters praying that they hearken,
That they hearken the weeping of a son whose father I killed as he watched,
That it comes to light of the many I left orphaned and homeless,
They call me a hero of war yet the devil knows me as number one hit man.
Memories of the days I held the title 'warrior' though in truth I was a hope destroyer,
Days that I devoted my energy to spear down the pride that praise stirs,
Times when every ounce of energy was muscled towards a glorious eulogy,
Now drowned in blood I shed at war I raise waters praying that they hearken,
That they hearken the weeping of a son whose father I killed as he watched,
That it comes to light of the many I left orphaned and homeless,
They call me a hero of war yet the devil knows me as number one hit man.
Am afraid that If I love my neighbor as I love myself then none will live to see sunrise,
Today empty spaces encrusts my heart with a lonely spirit swollen with much hurt,
Torn and tormented is my soul at glance and I dread the path that I walk,
Jesus before Judas cried to the father to take the cup of suffering away,
I pray that if this cup is taken from me may I not be given the strength,
For against this cup I will Avenge Sevenfold for the bullet it gave me for my valentine,
I long for freedom from these wounds in the inside and scars on the outside,
That they term as badges of honor yet they are symbols of torment.
Today empty spaces encrusts my heart with a lonely spirit swollen with much hurt,
Torn and tormented is my soul at glance and I dread the path that I walk,
Jesus before Judas cried to the father to take the cup of suffering away,
I pray that if this cup is taken from me may I not be given the strength,
For against this cup I will Avenge Sevenfold for the bullet it gave me for my valentine,
I long for freedom from these wounds in the inside and scars on the outside,
That they term as badges of honor yet they are symbols of torment.
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