Thursday, May 5, 2011

Cold Battlefield

Its a war every morning,
There's always a fight
The enemy is closing in,
And I'm losing my strength

I'll never get use to air here
The smell of filth surrounds it
Still, it's the only home I know
A broken and distorted one.

My hands and feet are failing
They've chosen to numb themselves,
They hate me for leading them
Out into this cold battlefield