Author's Note: This poem was retrieved from a writing account on a different website.
take me away from the people slayed
your weapon still holds the force of guilt
and with your hands mold earthen clay
try not to drown as the waters tilt
run from the place where blood is shed
your words leave imprints in the dust
walk among the souls of the dead
within your mind euphoria rusts
i'll take you away from the people slayed
my weapon still holds the force of guilt
and with my hands mold earthen clay
i will drown when the waters tilt.