Grief
Draw out the arrow of lamentation
However painful it may be
It doesn't matter to the raven
Where it kith or kin may be.
Choose today, I implore you all
Whether to be wiser than the crow
Or succumb as grief makes you fall.
Aftermath
Conflicts between people of so called "mettle" Their propensity for violence, their thirst for blood never gets satisfied As the dust settles The innocent victims lay there, putrefied and petrified. They scar the land and the lives of the witnesses There is absolutely no support For the people ready to purport Instead, they are ended by the witless. The reports, for a while are pedantic Then they turn nebulous The people seeking justice are frantic But the result is obvious. The countries involved are considered to be paragon But certain deeds of theirs are regarded as minuscules The nascent rising voices get immediately put down As the living souls turn into ghouls.. Does the world have any more hope Does the penchant for violence still exist Do the people still have the courage to repudiate the evils Is there any hope for these misanthropes
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