The city in my dream
where I live and I scream
where the fragrance of the dead
is more than of the flower bed
where tears make the rain
and the mother serves the pain
Here picnics are on the graveyard
and battles on the fields
Soldiers on havoc's courtyard
with their funeral song on their shields
The rose has no petal
it's thorns made of metal
Just another weapon
to tear the heart open
Of the caretaker who is dead
by the undertaker who is the head
Flames burn the trees
the mother drops to her knees
it's her son's creation
her son's now dead
The end of the world
she sees in her head
Wake up from the nightmare...oh foolish man
You are engulfed by violence
Decreasing your own lifespan
1 comment:
hey good one.......... made me a little senti...... n dats sumthin!!
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