Smothered - Old Etak Stuff

Weakness and frailty have taken me.
They rattle my bones and they motivate my life.
Everything I ever was has lied solely within those two smugly proud beings.
They keep me company, feed me, wash me, clothe me, and make sure I still exist...

Such a cynical comedy and such a funny tragedy,
And they were the stars and the puppeteers.
And I was the stage, the scenario and the set.
Still this happens... Nothing made me mean anything more to anyone more than they could.

Weak and frail, lowly and worthless.
Yet, I survived where others perished.
But did I stand triumphantly over the broken bodies of my enemies?
No. Never. I would not taste glory, I would always be lower than them.

Even if they were dead, I mean less than they did.
It\'s not like I did anything meritorious...
I never even fed the worms with my rotting flesh and my dead skin.
At least the dead could glorify themselves with that...

But that last little glimmer of me always persisted in my strength.
In what... as a man, I had been able to do.
They wouldn\'t understand, but I did.
That corpse told me the truth with it\'s silent words.

It\'s blood told me the truth.
It\'s broken bones...
It\'s shattered skull...
And it\'s horrendous face twisted in fear told me that I was strong.

Yet frailty told me a lie...
And weakness held me back.
But they both knew, that it was true.
I was strong.



And they would all reach their purpose by my hands.