Salvo

Salvo By Nathan Hannen With the fire wind came the death givers, Cracked and demented, Floating in rivers These putrid bretheren remained as one, Tortured, Hung, On the run They swirled and span with something akin to joy, Toothless and decaying, But not delaying Back to avenge their own, There thoughts, Toxic and cunning, There blood running They start to separate in this churning mess, Each wanting a hate filled direction, An eerie bugle call, All in favour of the rule Broken into shards, Staggering through the end, From inception to finish they remain The End.