Monsters

Monsters The mother with the hollow eyes, She sold her children for a price. A bag of coins, a fleeting high, She watched them go without a cry. The father with the iron fist, He broke the bones he should have kissed. He taught them fear, he taught them pain, And left them broken in the rain. The uncle with the wandering hands, He took what no one understands. He whispered lies, he promised love, Then sent them crying to the stars above. The grandmother, a queen of spite, She fed on fear both day and night. Her tongue was sharp, her heart was stone, She left her children all alone. They wear their masks, they play their roles, They are the kings of broken souls. They are the monsters in the dark, The ones who left their brutal mark. Monsters, monsters in the blood, Monsters rising from the mud. They are the mothers, they are the fathers, They are the sisters, they are the brothers. They are the ones who should have held, But left us screaming in the hell. Monsters, monsters in the home, They are the ghosts that roam alone. The rich man in his tower high, He buys the children with his eye. He takes their youth, he takes their grace, And leaves them in a broken place. The poor man with his empty hands, He watched his children sink in sands. He had no power, had no choice, He could not give them any voice. The girl with the shattered smile, She walked the streets for mile on mile. She learned to sell her skin for bread, And wished that she were truly dead. The boy with the broken wings, He grew up learning ugly things. He learned to hurt, he learned to hate, He learned to seal his own dark fate. They are the system, they are the state, They are the ones who seal our fate. They are the monsters we create, They are the reason it's too late. Monsters, monsters in the blood, Monsters rising from the mud. They are the mothers, they are the fathers, They are the sisters, they are the brothers. They are the ones who should have held, But left us screaming in the hell. Monsters, monsters in the home, They are the ghosts that roam alone. They were once children, just like me, With hopes and dreams and purity. But life, that cruel and twisted thief, It stole their joy and left their grief. They grew into the monsters they, Were taught to be by night and day. And so the cycle spins and turns, And every child forever burns. And now I see them as they are— Not monsters, but a broken breed. Each one a lonely, dying star, Each one a monster in their need. They hurt because they were once hurt, They lie because they were deceived. They built this castle out of dirt, And now they mourn what they believed. Monsters, monsters in the blood, Monsters rising from the mud. But I will not become like you, I will not break the ones I knew. I will not pass the pain along, I will not sing your cruel song. Monsters, monsters, hear my plea— I will not be the one you see. I will not be the one you see. Monsters... monsters...