” When thy lost will stands with a empty spirit, you’ve embrace a life that’s like a sentence without a period.”
Meek! the weak will fold in time you will see
for you can already hear them cry woe is me.
Speak! the unspoken it’s unsaid they’re tokens
they will turn a phrase the truth remains unfazed.
Fools full of words is it all in jest! they wont confess
they feed on the hurt inside producing deflated pride.
They will seek approval from one lesser than thy self
a death! before they die, they’ll never understand why.