I grab my megaphone in hand,
Let passion guide my foggy mind,
Hold tight and try and steady stand,
Don’t know if answers I can find.
Under apathy’s spell I go,
The sleep is restful, I don’t mind,
Shut off ill impulse till I know,
Nothing of war, not all designed.
Tripping over facts and figures,
The silhouette a shade feature,
Darkness comes to me and whispers,
Bellowing fire like a preacher.