by Nick Gisburne
The fog of hate flows thick with tainted blood
It starves the sky and feeds the swollen seas
It pours a plague to blind the eyes of man
His borrowed gold, a shining, filthy flood
Corrupts the greedy lapdogs with disease
They bark the tyrant gospels of his plan
He plants a war in sick, infected mud
With lies he seeds to grow like spiteful trees
Resistance purged, uprooted by his hand
From every toxic, acid-poisoned bud
A burning flower, screaming on its knees
The ashes of their petals choke the land
No light can fill the darkness he will send
No words can turn this future from its end
