Light a fire under your assmove boy, moveno time to catch your breaththe fires closing fastthe tree line approachingthe horizon line2 more hoursto the drop zonefreedom at lastto burnthe place downtorch all the animalsVengeance at lastThe small village scaredthey run for their livesno chance at survivalthe ****** blastskin blisters and peels awayscorched bodies fallthe smiles of the killersslowly fade awaynot a guerrilla outpost they thought it should bethe bodies writhingthe faces of the burningwill never leave their memories

did you see the leaves fallthe clutter on the roadsall the shades of brown and yellowthe winter would be long this yearI don't dread the coldnor do I fear the depressing morningsbrooding afternoons are welcomeas are restless eveningsbut there is no spring in offingno promise of summer as far as i can seethe winter would be long this time aroundthe chill is setting in my bonesmy heart has gone all but coldsome times there is a flutter at the corebut thaw is no more in sightthe clots are beginning to formthe hurt oozes out of wounds stilleach passing day is endearingeach morbid thought welcomethe hush after the rushthe summer that lasted a bit too longthe winter promises to last a long time too

i was walking through a graveyard when i saw errie sitei saw a floating figure that was draped in whiteit was very small the same size as a childfloating there so gently  oh so meek and mildit took me to a head stone which was very oldand the person it belonged died at 6 year  oldi was very sad and the tears began to fallthe vision of the spirit i always will recall