Red in Pieces
Walking through tombstones,
filled with names of young fallen crying angels,
the night keeps calling my name,
a name I had forgotten,
a name that smells like burnt candles and dried roses....
Only dust remains where my skin was,
ashes and tears,
and beyond this place,
a country slowly dies killed by the mob ruling it...
This is the end...
As the lizard king once wrote.!
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