his dying breath was hollow
you could see the dark in his eyes
it was drizzling from morning
grey mourning with a white sky
there were more but empty
spent by the masters and sage
corpses lined in a beautiful dream
one you see when you cannot wake

he too made peace with the scars
eaten away never to be whole
only the sound of his failing heart
called a name amidst the roars
between the journey and end
within the coffin of despair
there he laid mine nameless friend
whilst corpses danced everywhere

the dead won't say a morbid word
deaf and blind from all the screams
rotting angles by a mothers hurt
buried with them love and dreams
he laid there ever so softly
in the middle as the song raged
Buddha of war, they all must be
burning cold as they fade

into the endless nothingness
as the hell breathes them in
forever to hear the silence
so that the world can sing