Words are my weapon. They leave no flesh wound but I see them piercing hearts. Past the armor past the ego I see the tears you beg to cry but the words are the things that make the wounds. They leave no make themselves but they start the reaction, which leaves all the scars your body can take.
Music is my weapon. I string a guitar and tie it around your throat. I play a bass cod and the power mixed with eat shakes you till you fall. Music is my weapon.
But it doesn't matter what my weapons are when they are fired back. It doesn't matter what my weapon is all that matters is my choice.
My choice is the blade. Make the wounds so I can watch them heal and no my body still moving. Even after my heart and my head left with the feeling of you're blade and mine running across my flesh. Smell the blood taste the earth. It doesn't matter what weapon you use all that matter's is how you use it. And I use mine to kill. Myself or you?