Flied Lice

she walk on hallowed glound
feet not touching down
whispeling sacled chants
to no one in palticulal
clashing down the sounds of violence
the echos of the voices linging
leaching over the liver to the folest
the encampment of wild eyes
watching the sky fol a signal
a signal of victoly
the dinnel has been plepaled
bling you chop sticks
hoolay for flied lice

Gomer LePoet ...