deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Lionhearted Lamb
The curse of mediocrity
Like a shroud of broken dreams
Soldiers in rags
Upon gray tinted battle grounds
Raspy voices cry victory
In roaring unison
And I,
A child in a camouflage costume,
Am ashamed of the flag I wave
Or perhaps my representation
Feels empty
I shoot for the stars
But burn in the atmosphere
Unable to handle
The pressures in my head
Like a pinball game
Turned demonic
Shooting holes
In the evolution of goals
Sugar me sweet
And wrap me in a security blanket
Of arrogance?
Excuse my crassness
But fuck you!
Tell me the tales
Of kindred souls before me
And the agonies they survived
Humiliate me into hell
And watch me claw my way up
With the devil's heart
In my teeth
And in my prime,
Take on this meager world
As mine
Like a shroud of broken dreams
Soldiers in rags
Upon gray tinted battle grounds
Raspy voices cry victory
In roaring unison
And I,
A child in a camouflage costume,
Am ashamed of the flag I wave
Or perhaps my representation
Feels empty
I shoot for the stars
But burn in the atmosphere
Unable to handle
The pressures in my head
Like a pinball game
Turned demonic
Shooting holes
In the evolution of goals
Sugar me sweet
And wrap me in a security blanket
Of arrogance?
Excuse my crassness
But fuck you!
Tell me the tales
Of kindred souls before me
And the agonies they survived
Humiliate me into hell
And watch me claw my way up
With the devil's heart
In my teeth
And in my prime,
Take on this meager world
As mine
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