Beware the Crone
Beware this crone called hate
Her smile and ever open gate
A beckoning of her icy fingers
All is hurt, darkness lingers
Her heart a cold and lonely place
Where fear thrives, growing pace
To the point we all turn blind
The way to light so hard to find
She carries a flag of hurt and rage
Has left her mark on histories page
And yet mankind has failed to learn
With every page our future spurn
Beware this crone called hate
Would it win would decimate
Gnaw away and take your soul
And of your mind take control
Copyright © Daniel Cheeseman | Year Posted 2010
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