a cold-blooded killer,
walking in the dead of night.
there is nothing stiller,
then the air before a fight.
the flash of a blade,
another not fast enough
another who should not have stayed.
in this world, it pays to be tough.
fear, regret and guilt, i have no time for them,
these pointless emotions,
that let us redeam or condemn.
as we stare across the oceans,
we come to think of the past,
and tears my come to our eyes.
as another is molded form the cast,
another gives it's anguished cries.
a cold-blooded killer
walking in the dead of night
i am just a filler
just another person to fight
one by one we are slewn like cattle,
petty pawns to be wasted in war,
as on and on we fight this battle.
i just can't take it anymore.
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