I'm leaving it up
to somebody else.
The battle scars
are notched on my belt.

Come take my wounds,
I'll leave burdens behind.
I'll shut myself in
and close the blinds.

I didn't know there was a battle
that could be fought within
against the weight of
despair
and the fires of sin.

The kindles of hope,
the ladders of strength,
tested by life
and its brittle length.

Just lay me to rest
where I
unsheathed the sword
come strike me down
in absence
of the Lord.

I'm seeking the peace
that I struck to p.i.e.c.e.s,
that I replaced with pleasure
and its demanding releases.

When you're broken down
and I'm broken in kind,
let's give up the fight
and leave burdens behind.

It'll all crumble,
the world and the sword,
and we will all mumble,
eternally
ignored;
for sinners will stumble,
in sight of the Lord.