Dead men don’t talk,
nor do they walk.
In your nightmares,
that's where you’ll find me,
right behind you, stalking.
Shadows hinder sight of hidden agenda’s.
Death swings like a pendulum,
over the neck of a narcissist .
Solution in line,
slay men off the vine.
Dead all will be in time.
Hate washing over beaches of betrayal.
Anger subsides only to become chaos,
behind the palace in the wild,
rest a vicious beast, surrounded by bones in a pile.
Speak now dead men,
or forever hold your peace.
Forever it shall be held.
Because dead men do not speak. |
