Rising winds of bitter skies

(Her footsteps tell the simple lies)

Screaming raven, grackle call

(The clouds wish that they couldn’t fall)

Scrape of bone, cement stained red

Scraps of paper; torn, shred

Tin can crackle as wind tears through

(There’s not much more that they can do)

Rising sun to save the souls

Of all of those that play the roles

Of winner, loser, liar, lost

(And anyone that’s paid the cost)

A devil made of lies and dust

(Laughing how they’re lost in lust)

Paint stains all this world too holy

As we’re dying far too slowly