The innocent have jaded eyes,
And time passes slowly for them.
They look down upon the world,
and sigh at its predicament.
Filled with love.
Instilled with hate.
But open, loving arms.
And boney fingers left to point,
And judge the worthless lambs.
The world crumbles at their words.
It burns beneath their feet.
Blood is shed upon the land,
The innocent... where have they gone?
Those innocents, corrupted by war.
Corrupted by fear.
Jaded, bleeding, shunned -
Who... who is innocent?
The world fades in its crimson flames,
Shatters at their mournful cries.
None are truly innocent.
-Aria Rothsbane 02/04/13
· Mon Feb 04, 2013 @ 09:28am · 0 Comments