Icy tears melting on the cheek
of a man who's breath does reek
of burning flesh and hollow thanks
from the lips of the dying does darkness, rank.
A fluttering silence brims the hall
that swallows the scream of each of all:
the tortured and broke
crawling across the lies they've spoken.
Words cuts them to bleeding
that hot, red mess. Bubbling, seething.
One day may smear them in apologizes
and smother themselves in hungry seas.
But tongues do starve
for salty revenge, yearned
to taste it's bitterness in fruit.
The years drag the young to grew
to be fodder for the lion's den
who swallows whole the hearts of men
who once knew smiles and laughter
but snuffed it out for ever after.
This army drags itself upon it's sin
ever chanting, ceaseless singing: "Let Us In! Let Us In!"