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Black Bird That Brings No Joy
Sisyphean
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There's little time for snakes
Those bastards suspended in infectious states
Stretching vines, grasping for every throat and wonder
Suddenly, an enemy
Who uses doubt as a potent weapon
Projecting woes and misfortunes
Less noble self
Downfall of creeds
Defeat ingrained
No glory, no shame
The knife in on our throat
Always been there, what now, choke
In peace and silence of capitulation
We all need to quit
This spectacle of hopeless conflict
Coward!
You have no spine
Coward!
There is no pride in this loop of fatal errors
The principal lecture is never light
Probably irrational yet mostly right
Am I saving a falling brother
Or soliciting my own smother?
Living, shall forfeit fair renown
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung
Unwept, unhonoured, and unsung
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