Tempted by no one, immune to all pain,
My wrath is as fierce as blood surly stains.
Each instinct of mine, molded and toned,
Each weapon of mine, sharpened and honed.
Myself, a weapon, created by fate,
Alone in this world, surrounded by hate.
I hold out a curved, cold blade of silence,
No angel of light to show me true guidence.
The shimmering steel, I lay to the ground,
Rage builds up, as my heart starts to pound.
I want them to suffer, and die a slow death,
A grin on my face as they take their last breath.
I glance at a mirror, and see my reflection,
Frozen and dark, like evil deception.
No system of thought, no error to my ways,
As lifeless and void as a dead man’s gaze.
Driven by strength of which you don’t know,
Movement as silent as new fallen snow.
Time after time, I try my hardest and best,
To pass all of life’s quaint little test.
A world full of people, who laugh as I weep,
Don’t seem so amused as I put them to sleep.
A beautiful soul I want to show me the light,
And give me a reason to step out of the night.
But no one has feeling for such a black heart,
So this soldier forever be chained to the dark.