Spearhead - Bolt Thrower

Spearhead marching onwards,

Take my soul sacrificial offering.

Your initial strike taken by surprise,

Now left alone, condemned by my pride,

Drained of all emotion — body now an empty shell,

There’s nothing left — you’ve taken all away

Adrenaline flows,

Now filled with anger,

Just what will be the outcome,

Mass confusion tears my mind.

Spearhead — No victory sublime,

Another fallen victim — I will not beg to you,

Spearhead — to which I cannot hold

With clear perception my destiny unfolds.

I look to the refection, fail to recognise what’s seen

A figure closed in hatred, I pray that this cannot be,

Faced by this total stranger — aware of your creation

No vision of the formed self — Controlled by your instruction,

Onward you advance, left in a mindless trance,

Hypnotised by your will, desire is now instilled,

Now string face to face, your eyes failed with with hate,

Held by your contempt, bought by weakness and by strength.