HungOverAndUnder aka Hells Weapon

All the Joy has gone, poisoned and sterile
All the Happiness is dead, carved from my heart.
All that remains is a darkness that sits inside

All the nice words have gone sour,
All the kindness shredded
All that remains is a little voice

A little voice that knows what to say
A little voice that whispers so seductively
A little voice that says that death is warm and loving
A little voice that says that life is not worth living

Despair is his name. Despair is what he does.
Loves has taken her gentleness away, departing in the wind
Despair is there to embrace, to offer comfort and support.
Saying that the pain can end with just a little cut.

Who would miss you? You cause nothing but pain
Even those that promise you love can’t stand you around
Just I little cut, a small pain against the searing hurt if the heart

The warms of flowing blood, the spray of loves vile poison.
The cooling of the pain the numbing of the soul
Then end of living, then the end of pain.

He knows just what to promise, what I want to hear.
He knows that in this blankness reason has no place
He knows all of this because always there

He’s been living in my soul, waiting with a smile.
Watching be build my house of cards knowing that they’ll fall
The last time it was a noose, this time the knife.

Despair knows his trade, despair works so well
Despair has always been there, never far way.
Ready with his embrace whenever I need a hug

Reason is not yet slain, hope makes its last stand.
But when all is said and done, when reason and hope do fight
The truth is still right there, a cannon primed to blow.

Despair has lit the fuse on only waits the blast
Truth is a evil thing, that shows what has happened past
Truth holds on fast and the truth is set in stone that despair has carved

Because the truth is that whenever I have happiness it always slips away
The only time I rise is so that I can fall
That in this impassive world it is selfish man that shapes

Hope make is stand, using it one weapon.
That the future is yet written, that rises can’t all fall
That the evil that men do is ignorance not malice.

Yet what can hope say that despair can’t dispel.
The battle is still rages, yet despair is still rising.
The knife it is still gleaming and the blackness all-consuming