Let your sore bleed,
Let the soldiers speak,
The pain of the military,
The soldier’s war poetry.
The dog crying in the streets,
Listen to the news of the devil,
Crossroads,
A glimpse of the red light.
The speed of green tank wheels,
The sound of fear that the night reveals.

Oh dear,
You sent an angel into my life,
With no future,
Like light without brightness,
But I’m dazed anyway.
God, replace my fate,
You said,
“It’s never too late,”
Make her mine,
Don’t make my angel wait.
Thousands of prayers,
I'm staying awake,
Destroying my peace,
Demolishing my rest.

Hey,
My Candy gel,
My sweet fellow,
Why are you sad?
Are you feeling judged?
Come to me,
My warm hug is delaying for you.
Your innocence,
I love you.

There are two presences in my form:
The brain and the loner soul,
Rulers of my ******* entire whole.
My brain orders me to "**** up,"
But somehow,
I stay in control.
My brain orders me to be "emotionless,"
But I manage to hold on to my emotions.
My brain orders me to "argue,"
But I stay soundless, like the mute.
And so on, and so on...
Did I win the war?
No, I'm still holding on!

I don’t wish for war,

I don’t wish for war,

I don’t wish!

My soul orders me to "Confess!"
But my brain thinks too much and pauses.
My soul orders me to "Love,"
But my brain counts the risks, hesitates, and stalls.
My soul urges me to "Leap, go forward,"
Yet my brain drags me back,
Rustling, "What if you fall?"
My soul burns to "Create,"
But my brain worries, "What if it’s not great?"
My soul begs me to "Speak,"
But my brain fears, "What if they hate?"
And so on, and so on...
One dreams of freedom,
The other fears pain.
My brain wants to win,
My soul wants to live.
These two I rely on, and I truly believe.

But I don’t wish for war,

I don’t wish for war,

Oh Lord, I don’t wish—truly.

And in this endless war, I stand—
A prisoner, a rebel, a man.

But I don’t wish for war,

I don’t wish for war,

Oh Lord, I don’t wish—truly.

"A Remorse—
The radiance of truth,
A reckoning—
A chastisement for the past,
A revelation for life."

I can't dominate
my cognition—
it's a ******' storm,
a wild tide,
I’m sinking in it,
wrapped in it,
aside.
In this pushy
blow of cognition,
I could fly,
travel in time,
leave God behind,
But at what limitations?
And more's !
More's !
More's !
Like I'm streaming on Youtube
with frictional shows!
I wish I could think,
beyond boundaries,
As I imagine,
I compose!
In cognition—
What if I could roam in time?
What if I could fly?
What if!?
What if!?
What if!?
More's—
More's—
More's.