The Becoming

I had once met a soul, a man of blood and anger; He had never known, the comfort of life's tears; Something was between, both him and the sun; Cursed from the start, to bear all man's pain. That was his burden, it was his solemn goal; He served his purpose, his own, humble role; The power in his hands, could destroy this earth; He had possessed that force, from his own birth.

And it's a shame, that this is all that remains;

And it's a shame, that this hate bears a name; And it's a shame, that these acts were in vain; And it's a shame, that this hate serves to reign. When that soul passed, it had lost all hate;

I had grown to love, the torment of life's tears; I renounce my past sins, I have broken the yoke; Renewing sympathy, for those that I hold dear. This is my burden, this is my solemn goal;

What is my purpose, what is my humble role?;

All alone I stand, I'll try and save this earth; I shall not stray from this course, laid out since my birth. Consuming hatred, I leave this life, of torment in hopes, of something more. Consume my life, renounce my lie. I have, lost all life's breath, though I, have perished not. Endless vision, cycle without end; Condemning image, unfair circumstance; Only these elements, time cannot wear; Were made before me, and beyond, time I stand.

This is my burden, this is my solemn goal; I have a purpose, I now know my role;

To guard this sacred land, to try and save this world; Strength flows from this source, since my rebirth.

What can't be cured, must be endured; A mounting fear, has slowly neared; What can't be cured, must be endured; A mounting fear, shall remain, throughout these years.