Broken Glass

May 24, 2010
Crooked eyes locked on a desperately needed escape
but a shelter is not found
Food is stale but scarce
and your God doesn't care
how cold the ground is beneath you

Surrendering to the religion that rips them from serenity,
but the winter cannot touch their hearts
As weakened lives are torn apart,
thrown away into thei shallow graves
But a wise man once said,
a life sheltered is never lived

The master race
All blonde hair and blue eyes
We will not succumb, we will never be controled
but those alive are those that will not grow
to an age of strength and an age of old

The blood cannot dry
in time for the tears to fade
The maid is dead, the mother's lost her strength to see a brighter day

A crooked grin underneath a filthy smile
Death waits around the corner
But death never halts for a life set in stone
Your God holds all you own
He will control

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