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.
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