They walk in…minds set on returning or dying hero.
Not knowing that a single pull of a trigger out their soul.
They fight and walk, the face of warrior…
Not thinking that their faces could be forgotten as soon as it’s down in the opposing soil.
They come out…
Doubted and crowded by a world that thinks that all of their locks are opened,
Eyes filled with tears,
never to be shed…
Nights of twisted gears,
as they lay in bed…
dreams of war,
And all of those lost,
along with pain, sorrow, and thriving for normal once they have to pay the costs.
Dead and gone…
mentally and physically especially when they’re alone.
minds gone wild …
Screaming like a newborn child,
precious hurt, long days…
Trying to find a better way to get rid of the pain,
by commiserating themselves with pain,
when shifted by memories and shaped by vain.
Howls and screams into the night,
letting go of the fight.
You think its only when they’re in,
when they have the fright,
But its really inside–
when they believe the only way out…is suicide.
Lost and not knowing what to do.
Begging for help,
and then for it all to go away,
shadows and darkness fading deeper,
brightness go blue…
lets get out the awareness,
of the shattered heroes…
pick up the pieces,
put them back together…,
and break…the 22.