what for, my life?

I don’t fight, I live.

if my world becomes a fight,

then my end will be in sight.

no one around anymore,

just the visions,

the dream of the night,

the angels take flight,

like a flock fleeing from chickens.

my kind don’t fight,

we see it’s end in the plight,

the forever torment

of horror dreampt,

never dying is just one of the benefits.

the body my scar,

feels pain that’s unbearable,

but you don’t die,

never reach for the sky,

and decimate into millions.

so I don’t fight,

I analyse,

try to find the route through,

in the hope to find paradise,

and a decent loo.

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