The Children

Can you hear our distant cries? Raining and storming in the skies. You never thought of the lives you took Until that dark void made you stop and look. You never experience the sting Of a rusted hook, which claws and rings With death's silent themes. It stabbed Its way to our sleeping bodies, grabbing Our souls and untainted breaths. You didn’t fight for our will to live, But gave us Hades will to die. Give Those salt less tears to those who care. Love is now ripe spit in the air. We are dead now, there is no need to care.