My lonely war
Sometimes I dream of life, which through one could just fall with ease, I'm made of pain and scars, wounded with my wars, I built this solitude with tears and blood to isolate myself from the world I do not fit in, there are 7 billion people out there, but not even one for me, I'm just looking for that one who shares my pain and scars, same battlefields, I'm nearly done of waiting, can't keep my hopes up in this empty, shallow world where the word love is abused by loving things and matter, not loving themselves or living beings, what is there to love in shoes? Are the shoes loving you back? Sometimes I wish I could go back home, beyond the stars, where my soul is loved, here I'm just a nomad and hermit, living from moment to moment to wait time to end. Then they say I'm the evil, though I'm made of truth and honesty, the evil rules the world and gets a fat paycheck every month for corruption and destruction, stealing from the poor and enslaving people,...