Calm Before The Storm

From the ashes.
It collapses.
Wrought with poverty.

A tribunal.
Funeral.
Home of hypocrisy.

Crumbling from the foundations.
From a rotting corpse it’s born.
A diseased and sick republic.
Is the calm before the storm.

Broken hearts.
Vile arts.
Putrescent establishments.

Filthy hands.
Nation damned.
To depression’s elements.

Crumbling from the foundations.
From a rotting corpse it’s born.
A diseased and sick republic.
Is the calm before the storm.

Beaten down like a dead dog.
In the eyes of modern world.
Gutted, raped, and left bleeding.
As a bloody canvas unfurls.

The dying flesh attracting flies.
As a wounded nation dies.
The black spider makes its way.
To feast on its new prey.

Crumbling from the foundations.
From a rotting corpse it’s born.
A diseased and sick republic.
Is the calm before the storm.

Crippled debt from the war.
Rising up, it takes new form.
Spreading wings made of blood.
It’s the coming of the storm.