And now we dance in the streets <br /> Drenched in their blood. <br />We've come to our senses, alas, and have done away <br /> with our only living negative force. <br />We charge in which ever direction we choose. <br /> Like an army with out the necessity of war. <br />Free to hunt. <br /> no need to gather. <br /> Curing strips of venison with out a care in the world. <br /> Hoping the evil don't rise from the grave. <br /> Grabbing me. <br />Taking me to their world. <br /> I will not go. <br />Prefer to choke on the ashes of friends then breathe the great fragrance.<br /><br />matt fromm<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ashes-of-friends/
