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In the veins of the frail looking youngster
Flow fluids of rage and contempt
For a world that stood aside and watched
Whilst pain his second skin became
His world is ruled by casualties
Of war propagated by sick souls
Who live in fortified mansions
Where spoils of war they share
The cuddle of a mother
The guidance of a father
The beauty of family
He never can tell
For as a baby
At a theatre of war he danced
Now countless nightmares rules his night
Of souls he made leave in a hurry
He goes on his knees
And cries out for mercy
For against his will he became
A toy soldier.
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