As I look back on my life,
Not only what I've hated,
Parts of memory still compressed,
My memory banks have faded...
Am I myself a hypocryte?
Do I not hate the haters?
Sparks of anger scorch my soul,
They're lives, there for the takers?
Death and destruction reign above all,
Peace, where hast thou gone?
Future generations are who I feel sorry for,
Those who are yet to be born.
People I know who's blood has been spilt,
People I know who have died,
People I knew who've had funerals held,
But people they knew who have cried...
I know this, in fact that life isnt long,
So why do people cut it short?
When war occurs, Death is in tow,
The worlds only true blood sport...
I know as a fact that life isnt great,
When you live on the edge of a knife.
Is this a reality?
Is this, in fact, my life?
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