The curse

Suffer, is such an empty word, an anemic notion
Compared to what I endure day after day
I am the one, who hears the lies and feels the cries
Like cuts of blades and ice within my mind
What the fuck, have the stars done?
For when I was born, I was in their sights
Why cursing me with the gift of sight?

No point in knowing the truth
If you can’t change the facts
If only I could stop the voices by cutting off my ears
Or rip out my eyes to prevent these visions I fear
No point in knowing the truth
Its all for nothing
If you can’t change the facts
Like living in a future past

Nothing can heal the sadness
Of witnessing a tragedy no less than twice
And all the eyes, of my peers are divided between
The haters, the non-believers and the followers
I try to push it back inside, as if the choice was mine
What should I expect from life? It’s the only thing I can’t forecast

Hope, trust and love are for the dead
I’ve seen enough to know we’re damned
Under oath I will, spit my truths at the world
What I used to care for, now feeds my apathy
I am the voice of the fallen, not knowing yet, not fearing yet
I’m just a slave of fate, a messenger to the maker’s will

No point in screaming my truths
If I can’t heal the wounds
I refuse, to keep on living this way
This is not a life, this is a stride
What the fuck, have the stars done
For when I was born, I was in their sight