Must It Be
Must I keep returning here?
This cycle I can�t break.
Must I always burn in here?
Self-hung on the stake.
Must I throw my love away?
Destroy it as it grows.
Must the vulture pick on Death?
The only thing it knows.
Must the Earth revolve the sun?
Or could it circle us?
Must a child cry at birth?
Or born without a fuss.
Must the dolphin cry in pain
as poachers steal its life?
Must I eat this with a spoon?
Or could I use a knife?
Where are all the liars,
that put us in this mess?
Where are all the sinners?
Too scared to confess.
Where are all my angels?
All have quit their post.
Counting all my marbles,
lost and gone, are most.
Here sneak in the demons,
cautious with their lies.
Could read them like a book,
without fear in my eyes.
I watch my life fly by me,
my soul resigned its spot.
The pits of Hell now fry me,
My soul burns bright white hot.
Nothing wants to grow here
Without the love it needs,
Even though not noticed,
the smallest atom bleeds.
They look towards our future
With hope for what�s in store.
Instead they sit and wait,
For luck to hit their door.
Why have we come back here?
This cycle we have seen
We�ve struck ourselves in terror,
A place we all have been.
This twisted downward spiral
Drowning us in fire,
Has left us spun in circles,
Situation dire.
This page and the contents within are copywritten (©) strictly to Shawn S. Partington.