Those with faux authority, brainwashed to loyalty,
realise that the people fought with honesty, originality, nobility.
More than corrupted power could ever conjure.
Give the medals to the children, who will truly fight for the world.
Their death is their life’s legacy,
their legacy, their legacy.

Their blood bares your cowardice, living by the lie they burned will be your demise.
They fought for freedom,
bludgeoned minds hopeful of overcoming nothing but oppression.

This will finish, though you can’t see the end.
But it will finish,
it will creep up on you and when it finally does,
you’ll be ever closer to eternity.

And they will live forever.

A flutter of happiness under dark skies,
death is in the air.
Vitality is rife above black ground.
Dirt is on your skin but eyes lock, fists rise and rebels unite as soulful as ever,
forever.

And their hearts are finally at rest.