They're angels with their halos high

wings cut, on them it rains somehow

while over us the sun comes down

we're over them hovering's how.

.

Uncanny with the rats but crowned

by us, foolish and airheads

no one likes ghosts in this whole town

but us, fairish hope in the dead.

.

Fed then took to the light abyss

they hold our arms and pointy knives

the flowers are but myths in mist

could breach through loneliness in life.

.

Striving to suffer, starving for strife

it's your eyes not your fists I've missed

I see the colors echo some

or so no one's surviving this.

.

Still we stay aging, pilloried

for life, moving, closer to death

praying for a war that slaves would lead

a fight for freedom more than breath.