Wandering the savage garden…

Born

We are born with a shotgun to our heads
Born to die,
Live to kill,
Heal to harm,
Constrained to will
We think that hatred's only fair.

We die to self to be forgot
Remember woe
Forget all peace
See the ills
Blind to sin
We remember only things of little worth.

One Response to “Born

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.