Soul-cry!

Soul-cry!

 

One day they will cry and shade nothing but self-blood

One day they will feel their own nerves numb

Nothing better than a mute and deaf lost in the rubbles of sin

One day they will die strangled of their own greedy string

 

One day they will cry and hear its echo to be haunted

In the voice of those Childs murdered in their dirty war

Waged for nothing but their own greed, filthy intensions

But, one day they will have their heads beneath their foot, damned

 

One day their luxurious suits would have nothing but

Faces of those dead and buried, to hang upon their golden wall

Faces of burnt, bombed and shot amidst their lavish hall

But, one day they would have no ground to stand, when stained sky would fall

 

Deserved it those people, were no better than rats and insects

Being born in wrong place at wrong time, what else they did expect

As they have said for years and years to proof and deceive

Money makes them all friend when comes the point to cheat

 

Oh, what grief it inflicts to think of those dead

For no reason, or some as they say, does that matter even?

Life being so cheap, death so costly

They sell more armories to kids having nothing to eat

 

Blame it, blame it on good heaven, all hail hell

Pray the devil, hang the gods

Let the death rejoice and life to brutally die

As they taste the children’s blood like chocolate pie.

 

By: Praveen Parasar

Date: 25/11/2013