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A Child's Story Behold injustice in all it's glory! Behold the child who's become a human interest story The lies defy us the images define us the only defense is the hell we crawl into and the shadows we walk through cause you just couldn't live if you weren't you I see your wrist I know your pain and the cycle will begin again a cry made for love on the wings of a dove of an angel that cries as a young child dies while a figure walks in darker night and enters into the mortal fight for the soul of the child who has surrendered to the fight it doesn't laugh and it doesn't smile but endures the fight mile after mile to take the hand of the lost child an angel wearing their color black goes into their hell to absorb their attack a black light to shine on that which is pure of what the child has that could endure will the child take the hand that holds the cure, or descend back to hell where life can be sure? The angel we think we know watches as the child grows into the fortress he defends though the battle never ends and the armies make no amends they march past blind bends never returns and the child's soul burns never presents a treaty fir the enemy's ways are ways of deceiving The child can't live the child can't die the child can't find a reason why The figure finds the child alone a victim of life that's not the child's own and the figure reaches out a hand takes a hold during darkest night to lead the child through the darkness of the light