I've got nobody no more.
They all flew out the open door.
I cry,
I cut,
I cry some more,
I lay here dying on the cold hard floor.
My body reeks,
the stench of war.
What am I even fighting for?
My clothes are ripped,
my skin is tore.
It's over now,
of this I'm sure.
"Save me from this life!"
I do implore,
but everyone's still keeping score.
Just one last breath, I say.
One more.
But I know my lungs are much too sore.
Why do I dream,
these dreams of lore?
There's nothing left down in my core.
Just waking up seems the hardest chore.
To just escape,
go to the shore,
it's more than I deserve to ask for.
It seems my cross I've not yet bore,
I wonder if I can take much more.
Please spit, cuss, call me a *****,
and watch me fight my lonely war.
I bet you'll laugh but think me poor.
Don't turn away,
when at my hands
my own blood does pour.
Listen for the lion to roar.
My shame on my arm I've always wore.
Never me, I swear I swore.
Now it's me that I abhor.
Still death leaks from every pore.
It's too late to even think to restore.
One last breath, I say.
None more.