The coldness of life/ The stories they sell pt. II

There is still so much hate, he has under control

Not for himself just for friends he had to let go

He’s not too old, but his eyes lived many times.

Most of them alone, they are black the shine gone.

His body wears many scars, compared to his heart it’s none.

He is overstressed, overworked the fun is long gone

The blood of his friends is on his hands

So he cries every night to bed

His eyes cry yet shed no tears

Even though his heart weeps

He still carries his fears.


Part VII of the War saga (last part. 20/07/2003)


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