Congrats you !
You did it !
You won.
How does it feel ?
You must be proud...
cause you're an *******.

Being the deciding factor was such the priority.
Casualties of war, such a small price for authority.
Here's a message to you, the ******* majority...
"Please shoot, cause I'm shooting back." signed, The Minority.

We're not the victor,
don't give us your spoils.

This ain't no "up rise".
This is the end to the compromise.
In the defense of The Antagonized,
we're not responsible for this divide.

We're not the victor,
don't give us your spoils.

We trusted the secrets.
You were trusted to tell.
We wanted to talk.
You wanted to yell.
We wanted to move on.
You wanted to dwell.
You destroyed our heavens
and created our hells.

We're not the victor,
don't give us your spoils.

We gave you a community.
You and all your unwanted could have lived here.
You had the fairness, the compassion, the love.
We were in your corner,
all of them.
We were unwavering.
You had us in the palm of your hand...
so you crushed us.
So here are the fruits of your labour.
They're not so fresh.
You're left with the flies and the stench!
I hope this taste stains your tongue
and the odor scorches your nostrils.
After all,
you've earned it...

the spoils.

An unbitten bullet
The truth penetrates
My ears
Reverberating through my skull
A fatal headshot
To my trust
You
Who love the role of martyr
Now have victims of your own
Put to death
In a covert assault
Don’t tell me to relax
Don’t tell me that
Everything’s alright
It’s not
That I’m unforgiving
Obviously
You never wanted forgiveness
You wanted to sustain
The immaculate perception
You paid so much to enjoy
Trust, oaths, innocence
Everything has been defiled

The marks you left behind after the bruises faded
A flinch at a hesitant touch
Afraid to be alone with someone
Afraid to be touched in a hug
It isn't on purpose
I swear
I just panic at touches even by family
From what you left when the bruises had healed over

i wish you were dead
but death is too good for you.
so I pray to god that he
has mercy on you in purgatory.

If you ask me, he lit the match that set the Moon on fire
It’s not a myth; I was there, when I had no home
And I walked in Saturn’s ring rain for so long it sloughed off my skin
I marched, trying to flatten the crater I’d made
Because I was ashamed of it
I was the last meteor to hit his heart; the loudest
But that was so long ago
The quietest revolutions are usually the most violent
If you ask him, I smelled like Genesis and Revelation from the inside
******* insatiable
I slathered honey on my cheeks and boiled my blood
so hot until my arteries turned charred black
I licked my wounds from the impact and discovered just what the hell was poisoning me

If you ask me, I didn’t know him last night and I won’t know him on the last night
But my God, he inspires me

I took my nails and buried them deep in my skin,
created paths and trails just to let me back in.
I haven’t known healing, maybe one day I’ll begin,
instead I’ll drown in feeling even though the water left is thin.

So take your worn out excuses
and your words that hold no weight.
I’ll be striking matches and lighting fuses,
‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
a blaze burning great.

Don’t mind the crying, and pay no mind to the ties,
I know when you’re lying before you even realize they’re lies.
Now a picture has been painted of a world with only one pair of footprints,
a reference that’s been tainted and shaded by the darkest tints.

So change your act just like your handles,
and there’s no morality to debate.
I’ll be striking matches and lighting candles,
‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
but I’ll still have to wait.

This dent in my shell;
another scar from a war
or maybe from Hell,
who can tell, anymore.
This dent in my shell;
another scar from a war
it didn’t bleed or swell,
but you know, that it’s sore.
This dent in my shell;
another scar from a war
this one is my death knell,
it shattered me down to the core.

I’ve had my heart broken so many times,
that I’m depleted of metaphors and running out of rhymes.

I took my nails and buried them deep in my skin,
created paths and trails just to let me back in.
I’m growing too old each day to never gain a win,
but you know they say nothing gold can stay, maybe next time I’ll stick with tin.

‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
it’s our defined trait and state.
‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
cremate and annihilate.