Used and twisted, poked and prod

Loved and nurtured, long forgot.

Raised by eyes, cold like ice

I have learned how not to cry.

Be the fear

Be the storm

Be what we made you become.

Be the wave crashing on towns,

Be the chaos all around.

They say I work in their command

That I’m a weapon in their hand.

But if they make me a weapon and tell me to control myself,

Am I still their weapon?