With grey eyes and red hands A command on their tongue A flat tone, empty of thought and emotion
The stage is set- A ****** play on a graveyard Their uniforms a lock on their humanity, A skin, shed off at night. Actors for their commanders “LINE UP!”- Few words, Fewer gazes
It's 5 pm already. A call for us, Just like the others
I have seen it… The unholy, black smoke And the putrid stench of decay lingers longer than faith
I have heard it… Their shrill screams; Akin to cattle that wail at the hands of an amateur butcher; A scream that breaks the will of heaven, One that echoes nightmares
They have come with a blessing, The freedom of a dead man. The last 5 pm.