Suicide King
Do I need to be Wolverine to face the Phoenix?
My claws are keen, my movements sharp,
As I plunge my knives, into her heart.
What a beauty, dressed in red;
So peaceful, hair fanned around her head.
A halo? No, something inbetween a halo an horns
adorns her head.
She holds her breath.
A monster in life, a beauty in death.
She lies peacefully without a breath.
When I bend down to pay my respect,
To my fallen foe passedn into death,
I bow my head, but catch my breath,
As, by the gods, her eyes open again.
Motherf***er why cant you stay dead?
The words pierce my lips as she raises her head.
I spring back, parry, the fight resumes again.
These are he cards I've been dealt till my death.
To fight for my life; failure I dread.
I stumble I fall, she wraps me in.
Deaths warm embrace, the path of easy tread.
It welcomes me home, my final rest.
But as my vision dims, I see her face,
And the victory there my heart starts to race.
Time slows, my heart quickens its pace.
I see the Reaper and spit in his face.
I'm a fighter not a lover; this is my fate.
Eff comfort and love, pain is my mate.
I couldn't turn if I wanted from the warrior's fate.
Never will I, open that gate, and step into that beautiful cage.
I have before, that is opened the gate.
The comfort tempts sweetly, false joy does it make.
But as I looked, like a wolf, at the moon,
I raised my howl and my hunt I resumed.
As all those crows flew, dodging the stars,
I look at my life and wonder if I'm from Mars.
As everyone else tries to rise above,
I wonder what's wrong with this earth that I love.
Why do they try to be someone else?
God made you; isn't it bad for your health
To mutilate your self,
and try and trade for the cards another's been dealt?
No, enter that prison, I never will.
No one will make me, freedom prevails.
Plush and roseate, is its interior at first,
But upon close inspection, the scene gets worse.
Like and opium den, the bodies lay scattered.
Their clothes are neat, but their will is tattered.
They lay around drunk on peace and love,
When all it really is, is just a mask of,
The ploy of the pupeteer, in modern day's times,
Pulling the strings, unraveling minds
Because he enjoys, power over their lives,
A single idea, pulling all the strings,
All the while seeming the humblest of these.
This is the war I'm destined to wage.
To fight against those that give up their rage.
They give up their passion for "better things"
For the greater good, they give of themselves,
Eventually to realize, there's none of them left.
My claws are keen, my movements sharp,
As I plunge my knives, into her heart.
What a beauty, dressed in red;
So peaceful, hair fanned around her head.
A halo? No, something inbetween a halo an horns
adorns her head.
She holds her breath.
A monster in life, a beauty in death.
She lies peacefully without a breath.
When I bend down to pay my respect,
To my fallen foe passedn into death,
I bow my head, but catch my breath,
As, by the gods, her eyes open again.
Motherf***er why cant you stay dead?
The words pierce my lips as she raises her head.
I spring back, parry, the fight resumes again.
These are he cards I've been dealt till my death.
To fight for my life; failure I dread.
I stumble I fall, she wraps me in.
Deaths warm embrace, the path of easy tread.
It welcomes me home, my final rest.
But as my vision dims, I see her face,
And the victory there my heart starts to race.
Time slows, my heart quickens its pace.
I see the Reaper and spit in his face.
I'm a fighter not a lover; this is my fate.
Eff comfort and love, pain is my mate.
I couldn't turn if I wanted from the warrior's fate.
Never will I, open that gate, and step into that beautiful cage.
I have before, that is opened the gate.
The comfort tempts sweetly, false joy does it make.
But as I looked, like a wolf, at the moon,
I raised my howl and my hunt I resumed.
As all those crows flew, dodging the stars,
I look at my life and wonder if I'm from Mars.
As everyone else tries to rise above,
I wonder what's wrong with this earth that I love.
Why do they try to be someone else?
God made you; isn't it bad for your health
To mutilate your self,
and try and trade for the cards another's been dealt?
No, enter that prison, I never will.
No one will make me, freedom prevails.
Plush and roseate, is its interior at first,
But upon close inspection, the scene gets worse.
Like and opium den, the bodies lay scattered.
Their clothes are neat, but their will is tattered.
They lay around drunk on peace and love,
When all it really is, is just a mask of,
The ploy of the pupeteer, in modern day's times,
Pulling the strings, unraveling minds
Because he enjoys, power over their lives,
A single idea, pulling all the strings,
All the while seeming the humblest of these.
This is the war I'm destined to wage.
To fight against those that give up their rage.
They give up their passion for "better things"
For the greater good, they give of themselves,
Eventually to realize, there's none of them left.