Fleeting off in the distant sea,
The bishop preached for our ears to see.
Cruel life that dusts itself.
lovely death confines it's mouth.
I want to hear the great souls cheer,
But who can make our lives so sure?
The word that was breathed, was once so blessed,
yet now corroded by the blooded mess.
lies and sorrow these high men speak,
But humanity's mouth is purely weak.
Decapitate the brainless mind.
Nothing's worth here, for me to find.