War By Syndrome | Beautifully Liberalized

War

Pain carried by one soul,

while carrying a fallen brother from a bullet hole
as the bullet digs deep, he screams
I remind him of his unfaithful ambitious dreams.

My foot dipped in river bend,
just like the weather his heart got cold
with glossy eyes he begs for his life to end  
hearing his words, I stood cold.

His eyes near the river glittered gold like none ever,
I grabbed my gun and he was done with his prayers
I pulled the trigger darkness got bigger
The guilt in the hear of the dead got bigger.

-Syndrome