Wines of melancholy
Thorns of ignorance burrow deep
Within the pounding heart
That bird should shriek at wind
To lift and carry higher under-wing

Smelling sleeping flowers
And wandering in a haze
Closes dreams to reality
That gold can grant a life
To steal it back in greed

Turning life on death
Wishing graves to rot
Or mothers to caress
That moment brother murders brother
To end his life as well