Violence

Thou filth and ferocity is a sentence of fame; nowadays glance everywhere th' dead on th' lane; th' channel is yet but ignorant without shielding an old, to witness tho' how evident proof can be, one has to loose nerve and see. Buy something far greater than a testament, doth dare who sought to kill by payment; yet be fair an close the death of swear and you'll be much more than pair. Violence is yet but a bum of illness, shed upon earth with haste and wildness; doth only be stopped by hazardness! an sweaves a man to madness. I grieve for th' moment for th' cause, for a man so ignorant and close, living in an urb of mist in doze, urging for someone to pause; yet no one ever doth, ever doth sense how this man was innocent hence.