On a day of winter I walk in the cold
I hold a note of a last piece of harmony
A music that brings the greastest world leaders to their knees
ears bleed, eyes gouged, mouth in a twist
We are the rebels who rise with music
get ready the weapons and prepare the death tune
screams and howls of our voice will carry out and sway within the crowd of innocence and the corrupt
We prepare the bass and loudness as the bullies of our lives will beg for mercy
One strike is blown as another continues blood sprays as we go and claim the blood stained walls of yesterday
Whats left of me is no love or pain but the twist of my mind and the bloody guitar i am left
Where do I go from here to play my beautiful music?
i will proceed through the snow of coldness for eternity until i find the place for my music.
Loveless Poet (Kyle S.)
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sadistic-loveless-muscian/
