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The Crawler
Leave me colorless
Fill me with an oversized anecdote besmeared on my thoughtlessness
I have no stories for you my second
No war crimes for you my first
No love for you my third
For after all I am colorless
I am your minds inversion of self-reflection
A backwards mirror
I am no deity
I have no explanation
I am what I am
The silent children moan as I look past their fathers lands
Their cattle cry for their calf as I raise my elusive hands
Timid Timid - no more
Timid Timid - no more
Lovely grim penance
The stars look in disgust as we ravage each other
I bury one hundred generations of 100 children and one hundred of their children
Timid Timid - no war
Timid Timid - no war
For you are the crawler
Yes you are the crawler
Copyright ©
Marc Web
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