we walk in slow
through the narrow streets
and the mystic alleys
hand in hand
the women stand,
with burned babies
in their arms
looking out
with electrocuted eyes
from behind the dark panes
hiding a few more scarred lives
the camera flashes
and we watch quietly
as their lips
slowly melt into
blood with crimson desires
peace has not visited this city
for many years now…
we walk
as the street lights
mould
slowly…
into mommies
of stone
standing…
their dark shadow
leaving a mark of the curse
the curse of a war
long won by the devils
on the castrated grass
bearing skeletons of bullets and mines
in their ugly geometry
the coffins
have long been buried
the trees
have long disillusioned
into the dark smoke
that veils the sun
in the sky now,
as the clouds
with only acid rain
to offer
the church lies vacant
with the crucified figure
tears of dust
in His eyes
we walk in slow
a tune
slowly breathes
its presence
on the wind
as the zombies
rise through the naked orifice
of the death lake
sculpting the
prayers of vengeance
on the strings
of a faded guitar
through the narrow streets
and the mystic alleys
hand in hand
the women stand,
with burned babies
in their arms
looking out
with electrocuted eyes
from behind the dark panes
hiding a few more scarred lives
the camera flashes
and we watch quietly
as their lips
slowly melt into
blood with crimson desires
peace has not visited this city
for many years now…
we walk
as the street lights
mould
slowly…
into mommies
of stone
standing…
their dark shadow
leaving a mark of the curse
the curse of a war
long won by the devils
on the castrated grass
bearing skeletons of bullets and mines
in their ugly geometry
the coffins
have long been buried
the trees
have long disillusioned
into the dark smoke
that veils the sun
in the sky now,
as the clouds
with only acid rain
to offer
the church lies vacant
with the crucified figure
tears of dust
in His eyes
we walk in slow
a tune
slowly breathes
its presence
on the wind
as the zombies
rise through the naked orifice
of the death lake
sculpting the
prayers of vengeance
on the strings
of a faded guitar