Silver and Scarred (Harcourt)

Another dawn, same black coat,

Same gun, same weight in my throat.

They call it justice, I call it grief,

Another mission, no relief.

Painted in blood, I wear that hue,

This life don’t wash — it just bleeds through.

Peace in name, but hell in heart,

Every kill just tears me apart.

Ice in my veins, but my soul still burns,

Every memory cuts, but the pain still learns.

I don’t flinch — I don’t beg,

I stand tall when the broken beg.

You can’t fake calm when you’ve seen the dead,

You can’t unhear the screams in your head.

Butterflies, bodies, secrets to hide,

I’m the one they call when they can’t decide.

I watch, I aim, I pull, I move,

Every shot’s a scar I can’t remove.

Loyalty? That’s a loaded word —

Too many graves for what I’ve served.

I’m silver and scarred, I don’t break — I bend,

I bleed in silence, I don’t pretend.

They see resolve — I see regret,

Every target’s a face I won’t forget.

I’m silver and scarred, I’m made for the dark,

A ghost with orders, no beating heart.

If peace is war in a different name,

Then I’m just fire wearing shame.

I’ve seen Econ-uh-muss crack a joke,

To hide the hurt beneath the smoke.

Ah-deh-bye-oh still believes in right,

While I just navigate endless night.

Peacemaker’s pride — that bleeding fool,

Heart of gold with a gun for a tool.

He talks of peace but leaves a storm,

And I clean up while the blood stays warm.

They say I’m cold — they’re damn right,

I learned to feel by ending fights.

No family left, no god to pray,

Just the badge that makes me stay.

I’m silver and scarred, I don’t break — I bend,

I live in shadows I can’t defend.

You see resolve — I see chains,

Every victory tastes like pain.

I’m silver and scarred, a soldier’s sin,

Killing ghosts just to blend in.

No halo fits what I’ve become,

I aim in silence — my mercy’s numb.

They don’t see me — they see control,

But inside, I’m cracks and bullet holes.

Peace was never built for the kind who fight,

We die in whispers — never in light.

Every bruise a promise kept,

Every wound a truth I’ve wept.

I’m the calm before the storm,

The heart that froze to keep you warm.

No medals for the scars I hide,

No honor left, just hollow pride.

The butterfly’s wing still flutters slow,

Reminds me of what I used to know.

Before the guns, before the lies,

Before I traded peace for spies.

Waller’s words still in my head,

“Do the job — don’t end up dead.”

I followed orders till I forgot why,

Now all I feel is how to lie.

I’m silver and scarred, I don’t break — I blend,

A weapon sharpened till the bitter end.

You see control — I see chains,

Every scar’s a story tattooed in pain.

I’m silver and scarred — unholy, untrue,

But the blood I spill still bleeds for you.

If peace means hell, then let it burn,

I’ll die for a world that’ll never learn.

Peace takes killers…

and killers don’t dream.

But sometimes…

I still do.