Battlefield

Let me breath in cyanide, I'd rather die brutally
than die in your arms, heart crushed into million pieces
like an exploding shrapnel bomb.
Tie me down on this barren earth and lead me to a land mine,
let me blow myself up as you watch
because I'm sick of love, sick of you, sick of us.

Let the heavens rain down with a million gunshots.
I wear no armor. Let it pierce me deeply
as I bleed for you, defenseless. Alone. Undamaged.
You've already dealt the killing blow a million decades ago.
But me, I'm a warrrior that walks alone.
Death isn't in my world, and I'll fight this war endlessly.

I'm a man that knows no limit.
My reign extends as far as the lands infinite.
My army of pain is uncountable in its entirety.
Watch them march in unison as they fight in favor of depravity.
Depravity, because I need to let go of your pulse-pounding memory.
It's stealing my breath away, and I've yet a thousand years to fight.
Your bloody hands on my heart, strangling it, gripping it so tight.

Whoever said that love was a battlefield?
But then again, who ever said that love is fair?
If love is a battle I must fight, then I'll fight until the sun shuts down.
I'll fight until I take my final breath and my heart gives away to its final beat.
I'll fight until love proves itself to be a reality,
until it proves that it's worth fighting for.

Because as of now, I see it as an illusion.
And the fight for the truth has always been the hardest for me.