everynight
before he lays in bed
he goes on his knees
and pray

he prays to the mighty lord
if he may please
let him breathe his last breath
before the sun rose again

when he sleeps
whispers of terrors still filled his head
what a quiet night
but the noise continues
and haunts him
mainly during the night

those men with unholy hands
even though they always prayed
prayed all day
prayed all night
prayed prayed prayed
some even prayed for peace
arent they holy men?

little ones
just ten or so years old
children of god
angels with clean fresh souls
havent even sinned
life has barely began
but they didnt believe in the same
that reason they were left on dung
you are all pure
but to the men you were all evil
evil human beings

killed
thousands at a time
for something
the little ones dont even know
and doesnt make sense afterall
they had no hope
taken away from this earth
some havent even reached two days old

sweet angels dont cry
you werent the only ones
your mama and papa
and whoever
that were not 'abiding the laws'
to the men you were all bad bad souls
shot or bombed
the ***** creatures excuse was
that they were just clensing the world

just believe in what they believed in
and you should be safe
but freedom wasnt a choice
to them you are just a part of a game
and they will never care or feel any shame

that man still cant sleep
still begging on his knees
praying to be with his son again
thats when he will feel complete

those ***** men
pray and promise to never hurt a soul
then lay in bed
smile and thinking about the sounds of terror
to them those were the sound of sweet death
something they took pride in
what a honour

I have become death eater of words
I have become death, destroyer of books
I have become death, Savager of pages
I have become death
neglect at my side
And with no pride
Destroying all that once aided man kind
bringing suffering to all that was written in lines
and hummed in rhymes
and sung in time
knowledge ignored is knowledge consumed in dust
so sit with me and watch the world turn to rust