All the ways of loss
Of people, things, and sway
How desperate must the godless feel
When they kneel down to pray.

When the knife just won't ****
And the bough won't even break
When the wind stays still
And there's nothing left to take
When passion has no power
And hope's wings are cut
When life is in it's final hour
And the mind's eyes are shut
No matter
No matter
No matter then
Where heart or soul or feet have been.

Hate.
The one thing we are told never to have.
And yet, sometimes it becomes our only protection.