Poem of Quotes Members


death marks the innocent
blood streams blended with water
flowing down ripples of skin,
the dried dusk of bone fills the air
taste of a dreamless death
brought upon the ones who kept silent
and spoke not against the cruel intent
only to be there by their beds
waiting to once more bring about tortured fates,
to make thousands die,
to show who's boss to the poor
and hide these secrets to the rich and respected.

by broken3heart3
posted on 09/13/2009

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