The pain of misfortune

Is one that’s bitter

One that’s sharp

Not something that would be played

On an angels harp

Its more like the devil

Coming back from the fiery hell

Where demons rein and the hell hounds howl

Leads great minds

To disaster

And the sane to insanity

Where the once worshipped hero

Turns fowl and spoiled

By the hands of hate

Many question

Why this is so dark

And that’s because

By the wrist I mark

It doesn’t matter

If its shallow or deep

It could kill you all the same

But what did I say?

Misfortune turns the rocks insane