When the demon inside reaches postmortem status
When the time comes to lay down your blood-soaked axes
When your war cry to the heavens is only a whimper
When your tree-trunk legs get limper and limper
Let the river of salt flow freely from your eyes
Let your inner war hammer crush Manosphere lies
Let your war-torn soul cycle through the emotions
So you don’t live day to day going through the motions
There’s nothing wrong with crying, regardless of gender
When you’ve spent so long being the strongest protector
When your deadliest attackers pass the gates of hell
When the smell of death leaves you nauseous and unwell
There’s no such thing as never-ending strength
There’s no such thing as a limited time length
When the burden you carry lives on forever
Unleash the thunderstorms and waterfall weather
The monsters and tyrants will laugh as much as they want
Even they have empty souls behind the violence they flaunt
Someday they will learn what vulnerability means
Even if their abusers never passed on those genes
Nobody leaves this life without a festering wound
That eats away at the flesh before they enter the tomb
That eats away at the mind like disease-carrying rats
The scars never get better, they only grow fat
Don’t take your pain to the other side of life
Don’t bottle the trauma that cuts like a knife
Your tears will grow the most beautiful plants
Leave behind a greener world when others can’t
You won’t be remembered as a laughing stock jester
But they’ll be remembered as angel molesters
You’ll be treated like a god for generations to come
Leave a legacy of love with your trail of blood
