Twenty digits pass the time
of sunken earthen dirty lies
A heart torn with bitten nails
holding onto the ripping frail

Twisting to ribbons of red and blue
furling under sordid hue
A tale of pure madness seen
where nothing exists in between

It rains down upon the dreary face
lines of gray dripping down in race
A place where no one has gone before
but a place where everyone prays galore

Red and white curl and unfurl into one
pulling on the heartstrings of doom and done
A soul that holds endless love
crushed underneath the murky bug

A soul’s death of importance to
noone.