Suffering the Tyrants

Crawling down the road of life

Another hopeless speech

Gruesome soul numbness

People stare, do they know

I am suffering the tyrants

Every gesture is a malicious attack

A firm fist of misery

But it shall not coincide

With the Lion's downfall

There are no tears

No feeling of guilt

Nowhere to channel the anger

Nowhere to leave the pain

How can they feast upon the Lion without knowing?

...He will eventually rise again

Hunt him down (when He is at his weakest)

Tempt him down (on His knees if you can)

Stronger than all (so it's futile)

All there is left (right now) is personal pride

Enough to return with rays of light