Bow your heads for the dying.
So many taken too soon.
Pity it is seldom the lying.
They would be better branches to prune.
Upon the bones of heroes.
Tenderness begins to wither.
Health fades but no one knows.
Replaced by tyrants who always slither.
Foregone.
Everything is going wrong.
Angles cry ashen blood.
Kiss goodbye to all that was good.
Another innocent claimed.
Corruption poisoning all.
Light fades from discernible view.
Watch as these fragile bodies fall.
Crushed beneath another traitors screw.
Peace banished to a corner.
Sickened by this rampant mind.
No good continues to be born here.
Positivity swapped with oppressive grind.
Foregone.
Everything is going wrong.
Angles cry ashen blood.
Kiss goodbye to all that was good.
Mass grave of the butchered.
Simon A Jackson - Writer 