Follow me, stepping carefully,
over slippery guts and body parts,
rotting in the sun.
Flies and maggot's feast,
on man's inhumanity to man.
In bloated bellies martyr's grow,
with hatred and disgust,
issuing forth an endless hoard.
All is blackened now,
green but a memory.
Fields lie barren,
water putrid and still.
War and famine hand in hand,
march toward the abyss.
The gateway to hell,
© Copyright 2017 rlvs. All rights reserved.
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