A saddened shell marches to the drum of
his heart.
This beat is broken, a world collapsed.
A new day is at it's dawn,
but Charles wants no part of it.
His prayers lie in the hopes that this march will soon end,
not in glorious victory,
but as a saddened soldier that has blead to death.
Suicide is not an option,
their are dues to pay,
checks that have not cleared.
This check must be paid in blood,
sorrow and sweat.
The sky is now blood red,
a direct contrast to his skin tone.
Will the light of tommorow shine again?
It does, but instead of hope,
it brings self pity.
Curse this town,
fuck this land,
all is for nothing.
Building is something you do to pass the time,
time that's paid off in hurt.
The realization of Charles's self importance,
lights up new possibilities.
The future may not be bright,
but memories are worth something.