Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Obliterate

He is dark - nothing but a tortured soul
He is a solitaire - Quiet and grim
he has few friends, many want to kill him
Yet despite his deathly aura he ain’t lull
He is filled with only pain and sorrow
As he can’t love but hate, he can’t go back
What’s more he can’t defend only attack
He can’t run but go onto tomorrow
And yet he weeps for his predicament
For those who’ve come to know him and his curse
But fighting from chaos does he emerge
Only atrocities does he commit

He doesn’t take any crap from anyone
But can’t recall when he last saw the sun


14th January 2001

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