Ever again, will there be
a pretty smile
a rosary bead
a little hope
a cup of mead
to cure this shame
to cure this grief
to shun the hate
to gun the base
of all the waste
of all the carnage
that lays inside
that hides away
such a small box
no room is left
no space for new
something good
something happy
this is no box
this is my brain
every day
no one makes
a move to aid
and so I wait
for the day
I can trust
I can give
the wisdom
the might
the care
the love
to a soul
to a heart
that cares
that shares
such a soul
such a heart
I would protect
I'd see made blessed
but until that day
I am at my best
when so alone
as I pass by
my friends
my family
hidden smile
silent screams
the war wages on
the war in my head
where blood is shed
filling up the oceans
inside my head
filled with dread
filled with dead
more then exist
more then I admit
so great
so much
composed
imposed
inside
my
head
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