Anger

He can't claim himself down to prove a point.
She can't see the other lines.
They choose to fight.
We are the innocent that take the cries.
She won't choose the right because to do so they'll lose their might.
But does it matter when the innocent cry?
When they can't foresee what might happen.
When they're down and tired of what happened.
When all that is left for them is to look forward to is seeing eyes of death.
No God can save them, so why try to pray?
There's no meaning to life if the ones whom gave you it fight.
 We're just a piece in a chess game, nothing more.
He is still angry and so is she, but the saddest part is; they forgot about me......
Happy Birthday oh lonely me......