windows

Standing close to the windows of shame,meet your maker like the animal you are. Has life not taut you anything? Do you cower from the chariots of hell?
Stand let your voice be heard, die a death scum like you can be proud of.
Wake in the winter of your dreams, lie in the dark shadows of your mind,
the table has been set,it is your turn to talk. Do not whimper now shout
joyous verses from the bottom of your shattered frame.
Tell the masses it was not your doing but that somewhere deep inside you came
a weakness not understood by beats that have no following tore you from your
slumber and made you speak impossible things to come. Let us die now for we
have done all we can, man was never made to suffer such a death as we have bought,
sleep,let the people of the village live to tell our tale.