Two swords battled and two swords slain
One stabbed my heart, the other stabbed the brain
All the pain endured, drives an insane soul insane
Angels fighting roses, ironic I suppose
When God created both to rid the world of it's woes
But then angel and the rose turn to sword and then chose
To add to the world of evil by spreading the ghettosoul
I'll never understand the conflict at hand
Maybe because the confusions adds to the
Ones in demand
Death comes to us all, but in different forms of fate
If words are the way, then carry on till the death of bones
Because I'll take a million sticks and stones to kill mine
Before I let a word from my brothers dirty my cleansed design
Edged on, and pressed on, the iron skillet burns
As the two swords before me, builds the stomach churn