its an spiritual poem about discoveing inner self
I can hear the screaming of the casualties as there is no way to evade the grind
Begging for me to stop, but at the same time thanking me for the temporary numbness
The explosions in my heart make my chest pound with defeaning noise
The heart sounds as if it is trying to free itself from the slavery it has been subjected to.
Beat after beat it continues to grow weary and unsympathetic.
I can feel my soul, recalling the days when it was beautiful and full of life.
Wise and wounded, healed and broken again, becoming brittle with every blow .
Waiting to escape this imperfect body only to move onto another puppet of which it will guide and personalize.
The beauty of these three broken and bruised vigilantes working in total harmony is the most awe-inspiring thing i have ever come to know.
I am grateful until the end, whenever that may be.
I will enjoy the life that they have given me,
And i will spread that energy to those in need of it.
As dirty and tired as they may be,
It is more than most will ever have the opportunity to experience.