I want to share. In so many ways I want to tear back the covers
And take the fight to the bastards themselves.
After all, through the years no doubt he has grown soft …and weak
Not that he wasn’t weak even then.
What strength is required to defeat a child?
What question of the victory? And yet
Are we not more? have we not continued to fight?
And with each day we prove the fact that they were always less
For in doing their worst they have failed to suppress.
They have failed to destroy we still exist and no longer will be silent
So, bring it on you bastard or wait cowering in your hole
And we will come to you.
You will be drawn from your cesspool with a bright light cast so there is nowhere to hide
the stink of you locked away forever
by the strength that you failed to defeat
Either I will find a way, or I will make one.