Twist the Knife (Slowly)

Gut level, below it all

Out of duty - just here

Feeling like a knife's being twisted in the hole of how it is

False hope, an inch of pride that died

When I left to hide from non-stop

Battering of conditioned opinion

Rest assured, but not assured

All is well, but I think we've dealt

With the fear for far too long

Unborn suffer, unborn suffer

Unborn suffer the norm

Born to this - I think not!

I stand against till the shit drops

We see all but do nothing, in the hole of "How it is"