If we die!, you die


why should the heathens die!
when tyrant proclaims -
that boisterous and
overzealous cynical pride in his eyes?
rage at corpses, for the misfortune;
caused to his glimmering victory
As skins stud and tucked in the bones,
drastically emaciated and malnourished!
brutality ! Now a decree signed
the stench of poverty ? irritating and intoxicating..
As the urine, at instigates the yes to tear;
Do we have to remind you?...
that our dead if your death!
keep then that solemn vow to humanity;..
if we must all have a chance!

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem