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The War of The Human Soul
The darkness begins to rise.
A shudder fills a tender soul.
A malevolent spirit is a shameless disguise.
A bloodcurdling scream like a bell’s toll.
A saddened glance crosses virtue’s face.
A quiet rose begins to fade.
A monster enters bringing disgrace.
With him he brings a wicked blade
“How far have we fallen,” whispers a forgotten voice.
Why must we fall, why not rise above this immoral stain?
And why can we not, tis it not our own choice?
Let us become, in this vile world, evil’s bane!
But soft, soon time will fleet us!
We will become one with the cold, solid earth.
And yet, our blood will still flow, hope will live on, thus,
Though tis weak, it can become strong, with mercy and rebirth!