Sometimes someone has to die in order to let the world progress.
The echo of the shot rings in our ears. Shock and disbelief running through our veins.
The death of one can either cause the war or be the end of it.
Looking away we have no will to run.
We're children, young and no longer free.
Marching towards the cages we realize, we were but pawns all along.
Drowning but listless, no longer wanting to fight. No longer wishing to live.
Sitting in those filthy cages and looking into the eyes of the one I let go, realizing we lost because of one decision.
The mercy for one can condemn another.
Poetry and the Like
By Fallendemangel
Constructive criticism is very much appreciated More