It is not set in stone,
The sweeping blood,
The writhing human bud.
Ah, there rises a new flag,
Revolution, the preening motive
To die for it, or to live;
A wretched life, in the spoils,
Of the seething war.
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It rises, blood lust dripping,
On the sands, bones it cementing.
Blissful glory of the demented,
Lost in the face of freedom,
Millions it rented.
Strange, such destruction seems
to have just dawned.
Hither and tither, the furious nature,
Presses on ,relentless.
No more mercy, the depleting inventory, it fences.
Swiveling away in fate,
It lies unconquered.
The obliviousness,
Alas, there they have erred.
Tenebrous, encompassed by the alluring has a rather turbulent glow.
Look to hope in a dreadful ash,
Look to hope as crumbling wonders bow.
Sneaky, the lilith grips the self immolating sphere.
As hades and the reaper rebel,
For annihilation be there doom,
Even in tartarus is no more room.
Scream. Run. Run away.
Where to ?
The sun sets, leaving the ash,
To the hope of a scalding dawn.
