Venom

A tremble pulse rushes through the veins

A cough for help is what sinks

A million hands build a circle

Of disorder and destruction

A shade of black is on our lungs

Trying to protect our precious desire

Seeing through smoke among

Which is an abyss for control.



Knife hits

Snake bites

And heroes are falling

The shade of lone ones

The crawling

And hoping.



Stop.



Pure hate we get.



Stop.



What we deserve.



Amuse to death

Swallow the dirt.