March across land and sea.
We are the exhumed,
And we are free.
Sick of dynasties built on treason.
Now we are in an open hunting season.
Searching out those who vilify peace.
Making them understand they will face no relief.
For all their travesties will be paid in kind.
Cross this world and you will die on the line!
March until evil is clear.
We are the exhumed,
And we have no fear.
Disgusted by betrayal and liar’s tongues.
Soon they will rue possessing either one.
Carving out what they do not own.
Popularising the polarisation of being extreme.
Judging others with outdated and twisted means.
Hatred shall not be reigning strong!
March
We are the exhumed.
And we march.
Expunge suffering and march.
Revived as a counterbalance.
Extolling what should have been laid to rest.
No more betrayal and death.
Vent these oppressors into atmosphere.
Clear all parasites that are dwelling here!
March
March
March
March
Simon A Jackson - Writer 