Who painted this bloody sunset? A world revolving in machined grooves Sufferings in fated pattern with arms outflung Caressed by steel pins through hands, feet and time Where flies your thoughts to this or the next
Shadowa echoed throughout time The right to kill dictated by the right to judge
What is right? Crusade, War, Persecution? Or random death Is that a tear on your cheek? The earth will inherit the meek
Fixed himself a fatal shot
When that wound sun sinks And the ragged have shuffled home And the silhouette grows, dies It will be hard to imagine But all who revere you meet despair in your eyes