Black Peace

The flag of victory
grows from a dead mans chest
The dream of glory
has put his heart to rest

Endless miles have passed
to reach this forsaken place
oh so foreign and vast
a bloody pillow for his face

Sleeping, forever dreaming
countless aeons have gone by
No more fires are gleaming
just ghosts which moan and sigh

A horrid song devoted to the memory
of their oh so shining intentions
Once all deaf to interventions
now they are the seal to this story

Black peace has found its place
roaming within the cursed space
of their rotten skulls and bones
all dead, lifeless as grey stones