The war between Heaven and Hell

The war between Heaven and Hell
depicts how man fell.
The battle that will define us all
depends upov a simple brawl.

If the simplest among us cannot see,
it is up to us to show them the light.
And if we cannot set them free,
the fools must blindly fight.

We can't afford to spare our dead,
just as we can't afford to spare our lead.
We battled a war of sticks and stones,
warring a battle we cannot atone.

Blessed are those who prepare to fight,
and cursed are those who hide in the dark.
Hell for those who choose to take flight,
Heaven for those who dare make their mark.

The barrels of guns and hilts of swords
strike up melodies o our hearts' chords.
The sky begins to fall in around us,
the might of the Heaven's astound us.

Earth's harmonies broken by blight,
the melody smashed in our haste.
Destroying the land made ours by right,
never backing down from the danger faced.

The war between Heaven and Hell
predicts how man fell.
The battle will tax us all,
and we run to HIS beck and call.

Life-lines precariously drawn, then erased,
a nation of survivors erected, then corrupt.
Militia uniforms strictly laced,
then unexpected chaos erupts.

A life torn open at the seams,
a world shattered into shards.
Nothing is really as it seems,
nobody plays nice in the school yard.

A life filled with greed, filth, and grime,
perpetuated by the passage of time.
We cannot save the weak of heart,
for our world is being torn apart.

The cynics felt it years ago,
the romantics wish it'll fade away.
The realists see there's nowhere to go,
the naive look toward a new day.

The war between Heaven and Hell
depicts just how man fell.
The battle will destroy us all,
no matter how pathetically we crawl.