Even in the blazing summer
The world has frozen over
Splattered with blood
Of swindled innocents
Loss of generations
Unconsoled lamentations
Our souls so cold
Hearts so numb;
When Gods are at war
Men matter no more?
Just marionettes, petty
In the playbook of destiny!
A surge in my veins
Throbbing temples
Burning sensation
Of rising resentment
Helpless, I see
Men in power be
Reckless, remorseless
Stirring uprisings
Where anger is
Directed to fellows
Without folly, sans flaw
So, fingers do not point,
To merchants of war!
Flowers in the wild
All crimson red!
Lament of Generations at War
We bloomed in deserts
Red and shades of blue
Wounds bled, bruises grew
When the heart stopped
A chill captured
Our wretched cores
Now, we kill, maim
Coloring gray of souls
With crimson hues!
We bloomed in wilderness
Pink and yellow, slowly
Becoming black and blue
Tarnished succulence
Thorns of vengeance
Pricking our sides
Now, we weep, bleed
Flowers in the wild
Turn crimson red!
Blue Pen Strokes 