Untitled 2
A load off my back,
A look very black.
There’s a pool of blood,
Inside the hold that I dug.
There’s a gash in my arm,
From when I was disarmed.
With a sword in my hand,
I look across the barren land.
A river of tears,
Come from those remembering years.
Falling to my knees,
I scream some pleas,
Dried blood on my face,
A look of disgrace.
A stab in my throat,
A bucket to float.
A load off my back,
A look very black.
There’s a pool of blood,
Inside the hold that I dug.
There’s a gash in my arm,
From when I was disarmed.
With a sword in my hand,
I look across the barren land.
A river of tears,
Come from those remembering years.
Falling to my knees,
I scream some pleas,
Dried blood on my face,
A look of disgrace.
A stab in my throat,
A bucket to float.
