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            )  )

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••

Let it go

The crimson streets

The self inflicted pain

//

Death as the final joyous romp thru the oblivion

                //

You are as dead as you want to be and you are dead

•

Tomorrow is dead

There are no children left

//

I walk in peace

•

•••

•

The gentle breezes

The eye here or there

Of the un-mutilating child !

The mother who sees

//

Beyond the fake piety

The poetic ***** show

//

Let the dead bury themselves

•

I am sad !

//

I will not be harmed any more

••

Tomorrow shall be real and wholesome

There is much to do

//

Your boring little pools of blood

I thought something human was there

//

The great

*******

Echoes thru the mountains

///

There is nothing harmed

•

You are dead and shall be replaced

//

You are not here

You never were