Death With No Name

Born to be a soldier, raised to have no heart
A cold malicious warrior, damned from the very start

A uniform, a gun in hand, no fear shows at all
Marching on relentless, not programmed to lose and fall

To love, to laugh, to even care is seen as such a crime
For this man, this frozen soul, No person holds the time

A bullet straight to the heart, a knife held to the head
Yet would it really matter? For this demon already dead

Born to be a soldier, Born to kill and hate
Nothing can save this broken soul from this accursed fate

Copyright © September 2008