I’m sick of warfare
I carry out acts of indiscriminate hate
A soldier rounding up girls in woodland
Well, not quite
But the violence resonates
Sick with shame and loathing
I'm a better thing, than to find myself here
Punishing him, for not being an elusive figment I imagine
Is out there
Of what fault is that to him?
Unfair. Love is unfair and ugly.
It will not stand for inferiority
I’m sorry I haven’t met my mate
I’m sorry I’ve handled measures in hate
I’ve got no one to take it out on
That he’s not here, beside me.
Let us just breathe together, that would be gold
For me.
