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INVOKE
Charlie Milner

There’s a stutter in your voice,
But I fret to hear a sound.
If we keep on going with this,
Who knows what can throw us down?

Now I know you can’t break free.
Let’s just face it; can’t you see?
It’s just a possibility
That you’re trapped in a reality.

A fight is not a right.
It’s a tragedy; a horrid plight.
And in the end, is there a win?
You know we’re all consumed of sin.

Here the tears begin to shed,
Amongst the bruises that be bred.
You’re lost;
There is no one to call.
I risk to laugh before you fall.

A heart of black is pulsing,
You can hear the beat aloud.
“What has become of you?” you cry to me,
“I have become much far too proud.”

You have taken on your turn,
But I fret to let you out.
You’re caught in a hunter‘s snare;
With being free there is great doubt.

The trigger has been pulled
And we are still consumed of sin.
The blood of an eternity drenched in a simple pleasure to win.

A shot only heard by two.
The one I shot—
Yes, it was you.
The light sweeps the skies as I count our years few.
Who’d have known it could come to this?
It’s something we all knew.