My open heart complains no more
My hardened breath is deep to go
I craft my bullets from alloy
Of words of sorrow and my joy
By guns and powder flesh is burned,
By poisoned words my pain 's returned
By evil stories friends are killed
Through wounded soul my fury spilled.
With my closed eyes I see the truth
Eye for an eye and tooth for tooth
My mouth speaks the bullet storm
Each word is sharper than a thorn
Bullets
© Copyright: Данила Пирр, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115030303933
Свидетельство о публикации №115030303933
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