A Fistful of Hell
You constantly yell and yurn for relief
agony mounts in the skin underneath
Awaiting a day when the fate of it takes
Away all the pain and leaves nothing but hate
Hate for yourself
Hate for your cause
Misery everywhere
Heeding the call
The Trauma, The grief
The twisted belief
That life can’t go on
Without my defeat
Battalions grow restless and weary and worn
Humanity scattered and shredded and torn
The enemy pounds once again at the gates
It grows stronger with each of the lengthening days
You’ve beaten them back
Again and again
Successful each time
But you never win
A suffering ache
A blow to the shin
Knees to your back
With a slice to the chin
You fight it with honor day after day
Down on your knees you fall anyway
Each time you think the battle is won
A fistful of hell awaits you beyond(at dawn)
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