Death coming to us from far above

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I can smell it from many miles away,
The rotten scent of truth.
Three people on my mind today,
And there was no room for you.

But here you are standing tall,
Oblivious to the world.

How can nobody not care,
When you are so close to the clock?

I believe you will come someday,
And that day isn't far enough.

But I'll try to take you down anyway,
For its why I have made the shove.

And in it the world has changed,
A world full of stuffs.

Maybe a mirage into my empty bay,
But it's probably worth the search.

Oh but you chose the wrong people,
And I know it seems like a bluff.

But here is that someday hero,
Aiming at you,
As the saviour of the dove.

For the white ashes have died,
And from it comes a bird.
And royal it is,
That phoneix,
But it doesn't look so up.

It shall fly away I know,
But wherever I lead it will follow.

And for now I am leading it away,
For it has to fight another day.

May that speechless voice of yours
Go unheard.
For whatever you say,
It all comes down to luck.

And I am not much of a gambling man,
But I like the short.

And if you can't see me anyway,
Let's see if you can feel the tug.

For you have chosen the wrong people,
And the nation shall I bring forth,
Even if we die,
We will be known far above.

Mercenaries we've been called,
Let's show them not for love,
Or for the silver,
But now for the heart.

The fire shall remain burning,
In the heart of our world.
Whatever you are trying
Be it for lust or for love,
We won't be sitting here crying,
And waiting for the engulf.


The Dead Revolutionary

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