fools fight for their freedom, they need a stool, to reach the kingdom
win or lose, there is no draw, but with their blood they draw a line,
feel chills run down their spine, waiting for bread and wine.
hunger and thirst are satisfied, as the common man looks on teary-eyed,
and whispers "What have I become?", down below is his kingdom.

and a messenger spreads the news, as a soldier plays the blues,
ready for nothing but waiting for all, enjoying the view,
and he must make do, as he awaits his rescue.
as time passes, he loses hope, with ideas of survival he skips rope
says "be careful which path you choose", for his life is a lit fuse.

they cried and felt despair, while on the other side, trumpets blare
a child walks down a beaten path, curious of what remains,
he sees homes reduced to grains, nobody complains
he realizes everything that mattered, is now either gone or shattered
now he cries “it’s not fair”, as he runs his fingers through his hair.

from the blaze comes a poor savage, who surveys the war damage
sees the structures he had come to know, have crumbled to the ground
and all that he has found, is rubble all around
now he looks for somebody to blame, as he scurries back the way he came
howls “existence is a privilege”, as he looks at the wreckage

the general must stay put and be brave, with one foot in the grave
the other on thin ice, its his own fault he is assuming
threats of his life looming, seeds of hatred blooming
now he strides faster into the light, on an immaculate moonlit night
“forgive me my sins” let me be saved, and I shall be your slave

though barren in its’ works, on the faces of children evil lurks
innocent in its approach, it feeds off feelings of the weak
twisted tongue, hard to speak, now lives life as a freak
and waits for the sun to rise, but turns to darkness, and plotting your demise
though it may have its perks, there’s, no forgiveness for evil works