War zone.

War zone.

How low is this

When even the lifting

Of a finger is a study

In retribution

How dark are the days

When the sky

Is a wash of satanic discolour

Heavy with the curl of darkness

Poisoned clouds drip with venom

As dry tears fall

Too much of a struggle

To leave a wet patch

Tracks are ingrained

Nobody bothers

About the crying

It is an easy well

From which to draw a picture

Of sorrow

Be wary of a ladder

Left unattended

There is no moon to reach

Or stars to see

Crawl into the space

Beneath the bottom rung

It is a crowded place

Full of pathos

Bathe in its delights

It will hold you tightly

In its twisted grip

Pity is its hold

On you

For what that is worth

How low will it go

To still be the tower to rise above you

A study in oppression

With no free lunch

Bring out the dead

Pile bodies in the street

They will be denied

A full accounting

There is something rotten here

Prepare for slaughter

Life is a war

Full of lost causes

You need not stand

Lie down take the weight off

When god is on all sides

Neither the strong nor the meek

Will be left

With a leg to stand on.