We are the archers, the torn and beaten
With the will of our souls long eaten,
Stolen from the path with glittering gold
Took from what used to be bold
We struggle and we built, only to fall down again
Clinging to all the fame
But truthfully, what is left, but to be torn once more
To be pushed down, flush against he floor
For what?
To wish upon what someone else got,
We are all just broken and torn,
From the moment we are born
Struggling to breath in this thick, tainted air
And to fight it, we would not dare
No, we fight each other
Why do we bother
Creed upon creed, will to will
Can't we see, we are all just ill
They told us what to be
But the little light they would not see
Bred on hatred and lies
Oh, what a surprise
I wish for seclusion from this hate
To be bred upon a different fate
To love, and hold
To say things that one would say is bold
To dream and believe
To built the world my mind perceives.
YOU ARE READING
Edged between
Poetry#673 in poetry its the lines project... so I thought I'd do a little poem.. Which turned into a series thanks to @KittyHazelnut They may be bad but they keep me from the edge. If can suffer through about half of them you might get to something tha...
