Friday, July 24, 2009

Rule

Beating fists on iron chests
with nothing else to show,
for the words I hear
and the things I see mean
nothing to those who know.

Pacing over empty spaces
callous and cold truth
comes shrieking in through
mental windows looking
for the path of most destruction

Ructions breeding ructions over
nothing of real worth
Controlling all we know and hate
This is my fucking head
This is your fucking rule.

No comments:

Post a Comment