Theres a time and place for everying...
The soldier dieing in the soaked field of battle.
The father saying his final words to his children on the hospital bed.
The misunderstood girl who couldnt take it anymore.
Theres a saying I found myself in need of.
Fight for what you have.
Everyday my world wears down into rawness.
Everynight I blister my fingers to build it back up.
The next morning
It will fall twice as violently.
I look down at the knife beside me,
The knife that could have claimed my life so many times before now,
It glistens with hope,
Hope of an escape.
But what escape is there?
Death?
Is my life worth the world's pleasing?
I will not backdown from the world's snarlng teeth.
I will not be fearful of its intimation.
I will not have vengeance on the evil that took so many lives from me.
I will only stand before this howling storm,
Knowing,
I would survive
