13 Shades of the Rose
Luminous rain falls upon the earth,
ghosts of the slain fly to heaven.
Days cold and old uphold the memory of the battle.
Tears fall from widows,
children seek the comfort of heaven from their nightmares.
Passion and sickening desire fills the goblets of the war doomed.
Lust from the flesh confuses the issue of diplomacy, backstabbing trickery enflames the breakdown
of stability as the souls of ancient Gods summon the darkness within.
Love, hate, despair, anger, and vindication become coins in the pockets of our leaders.
Dreams are the shallow graves for our country as
nightmares become policy for us to live by.
Sunlight from the crimson sun leads us down
the path of destruction as bodies of our families lay in ruin on the streets from the words of the churches. Believe in yourself for survival as the countdown
continues,
listen to the will of your heart as the moons dance the death dance in our homes.
13 days of life remain in the silo as danger quenches our thirst,
searching the vast ocean of light for hope is a waste of time.
Apathy rests in arms of strength as demons abound in our heads,
screams of the dying fills our laden hearts as orders are
breed in haste and ill-conceived minds.
Bleed for me my little rose,
cut my soul and set it afire with your compassion.
This is not the end of humanity as we see it,
All of the gates to the space havens are not closed.
Watch the shadows fall from the celestial stained windows,
like our hope in one God.
Desert us again, lord as your will is fulfilled,
as our souls lay upon your plate.
Eat your fill and desecrate the creation of beauty for your perversion.
Will the pain end?
lacerations from the swords leave a mortal scar upon
chests.
Blood is the ink for the maddened leaders as this nuclear holocaust is our last rebellion for hope.
Afflictions from words that not one has said,
brings us to our own funeral parade as I seek the other omens.
Omens of ages past, tell of a savior that is not,
destiny from the wineglass is not mine to drink.
Slow, fluttering beats of aspiration fuels the drive of war to the throne of heaven.
Stricken from weeping rage,
resurrecting our
one by one our minds become one and our souls blare
our misery.
From the darkness,
to the halls of eternal light all is lost to the horrors of the God.
Books of one lie controlled the core of humanity early on, prophets from the Gods were executed by the savior's will.
I will never dream the way he wants me to,
