This battlefield still stands,
white smoke swirling as silent whispers of
dying men's shrills still fill the air.
Yet a steady snare beats for us.
We sing our silly rebel songs,
still seared upon our savage tongues.
Shrieks and shouts of all of your wrongs,
songs of sinners, we will sing on.
-
by Aleksander Mielnikow
Mar 9, 2019
Mar 9, 2019 at 11:33 AM UTC
This battlefield still stands,
white smoke swirling as silent whispers of
dying men's shrills still fill the air.
Yet a steady snare beats for us.
We sing our silly rebel songs,
still seared upon our savage tongues.
Shrieks and shouts of all of your wrongs,
songs of sinners, we will sing on.
-
by Aleksander Mielnikow
