Thoughts plague the mind of a man Who always had to struggle to survive Never taken a life Prophecy cometh; Born to die Sentenced from birth Product of his curse Big man with the world in his hands and a 9 in the Glove box. Too far gone, no going back. Plan the attack Swift minds of the Darkside Swiftly does the round leave the chamber Only a moment but the memory lingers Again. and again Innocent lost Redemption unfound Pure hatred Swiftly does the round leave the chamber. Playing god; Internal war. Simple lust and a means to an end. Swiftly does the round leave the chamber