We must tell it, I’ll tell it
To trap tomorrow’s we didn’t, I didn’t
Statesmen entombed with tested, tuned traits
Men are in-state merciless and selfish
Luxuries, the opium of stone their soul
Admirable and endearing trailblazers in the grave
Now-men fail that wealth and fame not to gate of the grave
Vacuum is a vital virtue to their values
Laurels, thousands as their hands reach, they loot
To serve stainless steel to their mind
To serve per assignment, buried with the notables
In state-seated drug deals, it serves to kill
Parcel bomb, your fate, should mouth kiss no grave
Their path to rule, vicious like the beast,
Stage-managed gangster, the barrel of execution
In the human red, they pile the spoil of the office
To do or die, they do in the office of virtue
Death in the air of deathtrap roads
Death in the air of no-bed hospitals
Tomorrow piles the deeds
The dead good men,
And yet-to-die bad men
The scroll of revisit waits.
No comments:
Post a Comment