Monday, 29 October 2012

alut. salut? SALOT!


2nd˚ burn

A crackle could sound
From out of it’s bound
Heat of danger
Storms of anger
Slaughter the stile
With tons of bile
Provoke with repugnance
To where we start the stance
 Do not dare reprimand
And impose me demands
Start answering
Stop swearing

Death Mud
Buried in the depths
 Suffocated up to death
Never knew what
Until explained that
I’m out of breath

Accept, reject
Tired of neglect
This city’s under siege
Up to the top I reach
War it is

-spuds-



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