Poets' Wakes of Blades

Showers of miscomprehension blanket hills of reason,
Chancing opportunity of immortal power.
Rule becomes a blade of iron
As the rain initiates advancements hour
For the day of stone's demolishing.

Your silence can't hide the echoe you've created.
Debation won't halt the wolves.
Witness the murder of time through a poets voice,
Tearing through the bullshit like more bullshit,
Mixing textures against the statues' pride.

Expression won't dry his pen.
Blood of determination's final swing
Will never drown his heart.

Behold the manifestation of modern contradiction,
Heeding glory from the embers beneath the wood pile,
Challenging standards, carved into your necks like tattoes,
And painting a new face on the monilith of blind assumption.

Prepair for revelation of the wind's whorish lies,
Setting concrete tradition in honor of understanding
For the white wake behind steel, crimson movement,
Pouring your delusions into an empty cigarrette pack,
Because dirt speaks louder than bombs
And the wake is nothing but innocent.