Wrathorn

Owerwhelmed by dream of power

You cry of night and fear the day

Dreams lend you a strong identity

Reality will make you pay

Days blur into a year

What no one dares you may

Just tray to pull throught

One more day

One more day

No hope

No straw to catch

No god

You ask to much

Numb inside

Let down again

Pice of mind

All in vain

Agonized minot aur in the maze

Of ordinary moments

Shape the days to your pace

Clench fists hard

Holler

Treat your life like a war

Unless you fight you' ll fall

Do what you will

Live be the rule

Be the master

Not his tool

No hope

No straw to catch

No god

You ask to much

Numb inside

Let down again

Pice of mind

All in vain