Now they call me out.
Another wayward soul.
Meant for destruction.
But this life's taken its toll.
Hell raiser, they call me.
A minion of hate.
I did what I did.
And I accept my fate.
A patriot scorned.
I've been set loose on these lands.
A soldier war-torn.
With Weapons for hands.
My feet, hard like leather.
To help soften the blows.
I've shouldered great weight.
Which my injuries show.
Been deemed as a "monster"
With my 50 yard stare.
I did what I had to.
For the ones which I care.
They slap me, spit me.
They insist, calling me names.
But when they needed me to fight.
I returned to those flames.
I'm not judging, the people.
The ones of which I've been charged.
We all are humans.
And we fear what's at large.
When I come back, again.
For the sixth time now.
They'll do it all once more.
But it'll be worse, somehow.
With each night that is passing.
Each day I spent deployed.
My hatred seems growing.
And my soul is annoyed.
So I'll return, one more time.
But this time they won't spit.
Cause the first person who does.
Will deserve what they get.
You wanna see a monster?
Wanna see what that means?
Disrespect me or my brothers.
One more time, I beg you please.
Then it will be you, not us.
Whose belittled with rage.
And we'll smile for the cameras.
While we're locked in our cage.
©jarnmarr
J