Fading Flower
Slowly dying, I'm losing the one hope I had in you
My spirit follows the path and never breaks
I keep shooting at the ceiling glass
Hoping that someday a pattern might emerge
The world is becoming more dangerous and hostile
And my senses are stronger than ever always on the run
Is peace given or should we make our own?
I will not allow the destruction of my people
The world shall burn and regurgitate on itself before I give up
Warriors are born and never made.
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