The world is a bitter place for my heart
I caught the deadly fever and I chocked
The words of blood that caught up in my throat
The stains weren't as good as I had hoped
A battlefield commences in plain sight
I stand a lonely soldier with a womb
That knows no mercy of a fruitful seed
I pretty much can pick out my own tomb
My laughs and cries know no difference in me
My hairs of brown to white they go and stay
Why should I care to love or hate or dream?
A demon washes over me today
I sigh out loud just to complete this verse
A talent proven to be my mere curse