Would you still love this land after it has been destroyed by those who claimed it as their own?
        
Would you still fight to protect it, after they burnt the wheat fields and the green canopies to the ground?
        
Would you still respect it, after time and again it has been cracked apart and exploited until there was nothing left to take?
        
Would you take pride in a forgotten land with no name?
     
Would you still wander the land, after it's soil has been poisoned by foreign nations?
        
Would you still look at this land with tenderness, after it has fallen in the hands of filthy pirates and conquerors?
        
Would you still find beauty in this land, after it's diamonds have been traded for stones?
        
Would you listen to the wind of this woman, that has nothing to offer but ruptured songs?

What were they if two intoxicated believers,

Unraveling their lust in the dark.

What were they if two poisoned liars,

Swallowing the truths from each other's past.

What were they if two amateur thieves,

Robbing breaths from each other's mouth.

What were they if two lost souls,

Wandering on each other's doubts.

What were they if two thirsty wrestlers,

Fighting their way onto each other's core.

What were they if two night walkers,

Crossing lines they could no longer ignore.

What were they if two masked incinerators,

Lighting flames onto their future ghosts.

What were they if two tangled shadows,

Obscuring the light on their souls.

What were they if two desperate silhouettes,

Drinking poison from each other's bodies.

What were they if two broken prisoners

Trying to free each other from their stories.

You put colors to my life
never realized that
putting all the colors together
will make my world dark.

You hated yourself
Before anyone hated you.
And you hated them, they don't understand you.
And you bled trough your eyes
Before anyone saw you.

Only at night do they come out of the underground, of their ***** creeks 
And is in darkness that they truly thrive in. 
Waiting for the awakening, 
They don't sleep.

Quietly waiting for the sun to set,
So they can fully rejoice eating each other's flesh.

You can almost feel the desperation in their hisses watching as the moon becomes their God,
Worshiping the darkness as it embraces and consumes the above.

Anxiously anticipating the souvenirs of the night,
Savoring how they will carve and engrave each other's eyes.

In plain daylight, you can almost smell the poignant stench they bathe on,
As they helplessly conceal the guilt from their nocturnal hunts.

As the city lives they remain thirsty animals, among their own, among cannibals.
And only when scarce shadows pace the empty streets,
Do they indulge in it for what it tuly is,
And can be who they truly are:
Rodents, hiding in the dark.

AM