The world is nothing but a load of shit. Its smells cross from state to state, nation to nation. To the point, all we know are lies. Leaving us hurt, scared, scared, broken, and in pain. We know nothing of how it happens or it ends. We carry the scars to the end. Remembering who did it, never knowing if they’ll pay, always know that they won.
The bloody scars are fresh as dew to the grass. Dripping to spread through the land, leak into the oceans worst times. Hear the cries as the blades come down. No sound will cover it, it will always be fresh and clear. We all expire like old milk. Tears will never wash it away. Rubbing raw will only make it worse. What will make it go away?
The pain, is strong. Stronger then a earthquake. Shakes us to the core, til we are nothing. The tip of our fingers, feel the cold. Its death, and he’s ready. Come to take what is left of our souls. Coke what makes us human. Silence those who dare fight back. It’s a war we can’t win, no point in trying.
We all live, we all die. We can’t be what can in the end, theses scars tell us so. What is the point if we can’t see the end. But is the end? A crash from a airplane, a boom from a bomb, a shot of gun, a slice from a blade, a ram from a car, the coke of a love one. How, when, where, and why? We have done nothing wrong!
How are we the bad ones? When did they chose this? Where will it be to die? And why was it I?
The heart beat fast, not knowing the answer. Give the answer, before death comes. He comes silence, I need it fast. He’ll take us all, help you bastard!
Wait, what was that? The room is dark, I can’t move. Its cold again. I can see only white breath. I see the shine of a blade. Curved to the touch. A bony hand glows low as it called me closer. I made no move. I refuse to be next. I choice not to die. Not by him. I’ll use my own blade to make thy scars. Its my choice. Its my life to the end. My bloody scars will only be made my I. No once can do that. I laugh at danger, even when I lived for only for a short time. Good-bye.
The End
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