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Ein Gesicht des Kriegs bis Tod, (a face of war till death)
12/08/2005 @ 8:53pm
By:
luftwafferaid

My soul quits the yearning for the end of struggle,
another life another day,
stopping at nothing there all dead,
another land another year,
the dead cant steal the fear that feeds the weary.

Oh god this war we fight endless to the day,
the blood, the hate, the fire,
its all driving me insane,
my pain dilates the wound increasing,
soon I will have no feelings, no emotions
to lay bargain to, I lie to waste in this timeless fate.

Sacrificed and burning the cross we rose to shame,
glancing in the sea of pain,
into damnation did we go,
following something but never our sorrow,
disgusting revelations of a past come in disguised,
breathing this cold pain we crave black,
and create something evil.

the suffering never was a question,
mercy for any victim never answered,
the streaks of blood entering a cry for help,
the wall broke down and stood a child with fear
in his weak eyes,
the child staring me in the face was a former me,
scared of what I had became,
I follow him back to a place where I could never remain,
I could only fall down and begin to cry but never shed a tear leading a
false hope,
there is no retribution for these fallen souls.

Now the light diminishes from my eyes,
the cold now overcoming me
still I could not cry,
as I fell over and watched my self fly off,
into somewhere and I am glad,
anywhere but here.
Now I slowly shut my eyes and fall asleep,
the cold morning and the last round went off,
the frost creeps on me
and one tear fell down,
it stopped and caressed my slowly freezing cheek.
like the lips of an angel,
and I watched in the sky my body lying motionless,
the peace of non-existence had made my life,
nothing but simple,
I faded away life seemed to slip.

The war zone faded into nothing
the screams, the cries for mercy where heard no more
by these troubled ears,
no feelings distinguished,
every emotion extinguished,
the beauty of it all,
confusing clarity,
an oxymoron that is nameless,
the last tear shed,
the end of sin,
something magical stifled
till the end.
 
Copyright © luftwafferaid, All Rights Reserved


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