Suffering the Tyrants

Crawling down the road of life Another hopeless speech Gruesome soul numbness People stare, do they know I am suffering the tyrants Every gesture is a malicious attack A firm fist of misery But it shall not coincide With the Lion's downfall There are no tears No feeling of guilt Nowhere to channel the anger Nowhere to leave the pain How can they feast upon the Lion without knowing? ...He will eventually rise again Hunt him down (when He is at his weakest) Tempt him down (on His knees if you can) Stronger than all (so it's futile) All there is left (right now) is personal pride Enough to return with rays of light