easening, fore come the
dreary images of gorgeous past.
hectically they do breathe
… spitting blood.
mourning it’s own perished gripe
… the sanguine reign of terror
and millions of souls bereaved
libertine and wicked
it stands proud and glorious
… yet the rot’s still visible
(oh, it’s a bridal shroud!)
taking over the roving grandeur.
ecstatic in it’s failure
the insanity progresses,
comes forth and forth and forth
… ending in harrowing perdition.
how many have been perished?
how many have been expelled?
… none shall be questioned
noone shall be returned.
clad in bones and unforgiving destiny
filled with reek of heartless centuries
… colored in everlasting grey
with blood of innocents.
it burns, it rains, turning crimson red
disengaging and monstrously enlarging
consuming lives and devouring minds
… a city, the kingdom in itself.