i have been chained to anchors
i have been tortured in my mind
i have been gaged and stopped from talking
i have been forced to stop believing
...
in life there are hurdles
true deterination required to cross them
but for to long
the hurdles have been to strong
...
i have never been the same
as anyting i should be
i fit in no box
and i have no label
...
I have seen the light
the bigger picture
I have watched and I have wondered
through the veil of unforgiving words
...
The service is one of honour,
An honour of the lord
Who sent thy lord down?
Was it you or I?
...
as the faces stare at me
their dead eyes plead with me
to help them
to free them
...
Some people feel ill when they see the dead
Some feel ill at the sight of meat
I feel ill when I hear these words
“I don’t care, it wont effect me”
...
as we sit alone
in final hours
we think of things we wish to say
to friends and family and rivals
...
as we fight
what do we find
as we stare into the eyes of another man
who we have just killed
...
Verbal Suicide
i have been chained to anchors
i have been tortured in my mind
i have been gaged and stopped from talking
i have been forced to stop believing
the world has strange ways
of expressing how we feel
in some ways it is joyul peace
in others it is cerebrale death
verbal suicide
is all we have
just give up
and take the final hand
as it reaches down
grab with all your might
silence is not agreement
it just starts the fight