Broken Arrow
It's the doers that will do something in this world
The past it haunts with a heavy presence those idle souls
they sat back as the future of the next generation is stolen
the calling card boils down to those that breathe fresh air
remembering a quote which held me in thought
That peace was the enemy of memory
the wicked stand confounded framed by deeds
there is a spiritual war taking place backwards moving forward
how far down the ladder do we go before stepping up
hate devours love examining the truth if it were to turn face
respect has lost all communication when fighting this beast
unrepentant it suffers the agony throwing bitterness to the fowl
when it crows it worms its way around sympathy
wicked it claws for acceptance never seeing guilty as justice
it hides with the sloth always seeking but never finding
on the tombstone carved once bitten twice shy
here lies the remains of a broken child
whom sold by actions a nation down the river
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