no longer i wanna be haunted by the horrors of war
because drama's got me mournin with blood pourin all over the floor
and now i feel i'm surrounded and cornered without warnin
so how am i even allowed to anymore be called a soldier
cuz i'm only growin colder
while off the walls i'm goin for your support tryna hold my composure
and i have shown i'm a good sport followin orders but your power is torture
i've encountered distortion destroyin the balance
and exposin our portrait to poison i've found is
a valid point to abort this challenge deployed at our fort
from taliban mortars to a follied headquarters
i would call it a slaughter
but there aren't an account of reporters to record it proper or author
still we're bounded for oil while soil we hunger
how's this normal, i wonder
what's important are the numbers
well point me towards a portal to where i'm im-
mortal before to the devil i boil under
cuz death enjoys conundrums, it's unavoidable
just spoil yourself some
oh, of course you're welcome
to hop aboard my realm
i'm out my gord, it's awesome...
link of feedback
http://forum.trshady.com/viewtopic.php?f=24&t=120828