Chained to these walls of despair I was condemned by a Judas race. Assassinsí wait on every corner hiding in the lights of man looking for my face.
To be last of your species is a lonely place in loneliness everyoneís your enemy, my existence violates this earth. I am demonised by children not yet born for I am Auschwitz I am war, I am the monster behind your door.
Cremation is ordained upon my soul the future dies when cities burn. Life gives way to extinction but the last rights give way to destiny for the dragon has one...
No poppies for madam that privilege is reserved for the common man. Drape her coffin with Union jack though there is no union for me.
Your guard of honour is expecting you, made from the empty shell of boys who left their dreams on Falkland hill.
This life that you once held will be remembered . † The minerís bones will see your corpse for death came to them with broken heart, their blood was washed away and community was lost of hope In the weepingís of a crying pit.
A small girl stands amongst the flowers of Bloemfontein surrounded by the aurora of yellow tulips for she belongs to the angelís now.
Her finger Points at the carpets of flowers a reminder of lives cut short. The glint from the sun hides her fallen friends and a faint wind rustles the petals forming strange whispers, the voice of many.
A wind that grows stronger everyday and the voices gather, speaking in tongues from around the globe.
A cry for help that falls on deaf ears, to destroy a deadly seed that once was planted here....