Then the bullets fly
little minions of death
reaching and stretching
a deathlike vise
Owners all the worse
with bloodlust eyes
shouting always to kill
Do they never understand?
About the death they bring?
And what about the orphans?
Sitting there and trying
Trying so hard to dry their eyes
after all hope has abandoned them.
And do they never see the After?
The After of the lives they have stolen
Of the lives that never had a chance to live.
Forgotten in the shadows of memories
Will they never understand this deed that they do?
I can't do it for them.
I pray that one day i will not have to join them.