They pick up their swords

They say the pen is mightier than the sword

Of course the sword can break down my door

And stab me right in the core

Then I ask what was I writing for?

 

If I write someone will deprive me of pride

If I write I'll go unoticed every end of a night

Midnight lets the dark consume the path of right

Don't let me be consumed by whats normal in your sight

 

In your eyes, I mute my voice

In your eyes, I have no choice

In your eyes,  I follow the same rythym

Meant to nod in submission in repitition without petition

 

A sick dispostion to obey an image cast 

Upon a people they could never finish as

The models of perfection forcefully depicted

No one questions that if it ever existed

Or is it a figment that we live with 

Like the body of Aphrodite, a myth

 

Media like wikipedia, consantly changed

Morals quarrel with society, constantly rearranged

Won't somebody challenge the people? If not the world?

Find the brightest soul to reveal the blurs

 

Then in my mind occurs Im somebody 

I've awakend before everybody

Forget following the rest thats asleep

I pick up the pen and embrace when they have the sword to keep

 

The sword breaks the body with vigor

The word of the pen penetrates the worst sinner

Your soul burns out, you've already died

You only live once was all you implied

Tried to the end until your last breath

All that's left is a forgettable death

 

The death of the strongest voice, never

Power for the better

Everlasting ether

Forever