Tales of Torment: War Cries

this torment,

and the weapons of this world

have sought after me

through times with, and without light‐

day and night,

i number the trials they have brought‐

even though i've already been bought

at the price of blood,

still, the weapons of this world fight for custody,

of me‐

knowing they won't prosper,

they chase after me‐

knowing they won't succeeded,

still, they place their eyes before mine‐

they have played their music to my ears,

for years,

i've heard the chaos of a bittersweet symphony‐

my fears have faded,

i've come to be used to the sounds of this cacophony‐

the screams from down under have become outdated‐

this torment,

the weapons of this world

have captured me‐

a prisoner of a war already won, but‐

my story is far from being done‐

i am a long, long way from home‐

bound behind rusted iron,

the ice-cold grip of the shackles of sorrow surround my feet,

their chains chase after me‐

with every step i take,

the stained steel of this torment dances behind me, but‐

this cell is not my end

this world is not my home‐

these tales can only continue forward‐

this torment,

the weapons of this world

hate my voice‐

still, i sing,

a spiteful choice‐

despite the chaos they bring,

i cannot be silent‐

my mouth may or may not move,

but my heart,

as broken as can be,

still, displays its art,

still, plays its part

in producing what my mind writes

so i must guard it‐

by day and night,

the weapons of this world look for lights to put out,

in cities without walls‐

because this torment,

does not seek after only one, and be done

no‐

it has sought after me and it will make every attempt to see that it can disrupt any and every heart's posture,

they are sore over their loss

because, this is a war already won‐

the weapons of this world,

and this torment,

surely will not prosper‐

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