The trigger is pulled...

From the streets a gunshot rings out,
a mother screamed out, from her knees.
From the dark a shooter laughed out,
a child bleeds out, from his heart.
From the soul a sadness cried out,
a world dies out, from her toll
From the game a nightmare played out,
a god fades out, from his pain.

Then the trigger is pulled once again.

The floor is covered in broken glass because, once again, she has forgotten who I am. Angry, I try to pick up the pieces and once again it ends with bloodied hands. It doesn't help her when I get upset, but sometimes I need to because I can't...
I can't...
I! ... Can't! ... Stand-it!
How can I not think that god is cruel...
How can I not think that god is cruel...
When every day I sit and watch her lose another piece of who she used to be!

I scream... No one listens!
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Silent prayers, solemn tears, subsistence, a Hope, Forlorn.

War drums beating, intense, rythem of death.
Considering dark thoughts, a Hope, Forlorn.
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