Saturday, July 4, 2009
Like a puddle of blood being stomped on
I see no humanity in the faces of justice
All I am imagining are
Nuclears, Artilleries, Death on the lawns
Viruses are taking over in the stead of war
Bit by bit the innocent gets infected
Fatal diseases appear more
Not even a sight of good is closeer to the core
Fate may be late as it seems
Only to be hoped the cheese can still stick with its cream
Future is yet to be certain
Let's wait for someone to close this bloody curtain
You may not able to decipher well
Soon enough you'll learn why the good fell
Even mother nature is perishing slowly without mercy
I don't like it wearing a fancy
Z.N { 2:46 PM }
