Die Young

Thats make you stand up - still breathing - in shooting range
Black nights, only void in a clear sky, stars on the red sands
Long train from there, going to no-where
The lost soul dancing under substance
Unheard tears make you tired
Three caterpillars spinning hope becoming stones

But here you are.
Hiding under blanket, confuse
You make yourself weak, no bulletproof
Sleep, limbo, defuse
Thats make you die, die young.
Refuse.
No way back. Breathless?
Pray for the bravest!

3/10/22