The Root Cause
Where is there ever a place for somebody like me?
Dead inside.
A shadow creeps along the riverside.
Can you even gives this creature a name?
A man with not a single claim.
A renouncement to all the shackles and chains.
Let god do his worst.
Let god do his best.
It doesn't matter because my soul is already at rest.
My hands have long been washed cleaned.
In a world so cut throat.
I'm not here to destroy.
I'm not here to shatter fragile dreams.
I'm not at war with anybody.
The complete embodiment of peace.
Wishing the best for the soon to be deceased.
Let god do his worst.
Let god do his best.
Heading down the road of nothingness.
Attachments have become nothing more then fickle frauds.
Greed is like the obese lust for just one more taste of the filthy fat freaking hog.
Just one more piece.
With a knife to spread this butter.
Just adding a little bit more flavor.
Let god do his worst.
Let god do his best.
What if the concept gets so god damn stale.
That I can't down another glass of this ale.
A sobering moment if there was ever one.
The possibility of failure of a entire world.
The negative feelings are overpowering and quite obvious.
We first fail as human beings, then we fail as creatures of this earth.
Let god do his worst.
Let god do his best.
Heres a toast to that.
Let god do his worst.
Let god do his best.
And I'm sure he will.
And heres a toast to that.
heres a toast to that, as if it was a matter of fact.
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poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Added by Poetry Lover
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