On a day of winter I walk in the cold <br />I hold a note of a last piece of harmony <br />A music that brings the greastest world leaders to their knees <br />ears bleed, eyes gouged, mouth in a twist <br />We are the rebels who rise with music <br />get ready the weapons and prepare the death tune <br />screams and howls of our voice will carry out and sway within the crowd of innocence and the corrupt <br />We prepare the bass and loudness as the bullies of our lives will beg for mercy <br />One strike is blown as another continues blood sprays as we go and claim the blood stained walls of yesterday <br />Whats left of me is no love or pain but the twist of my mind and the bloody guitar i am left <br />Where do I go from here to play my beautiful music? <br />i will proceed through the snow of coldness for eternity until i find the place for my music.<br /><br />Loveless Poet (Kyle S.)<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sadistic-loveless-muscian/
