The Treacherous Ghouls of the Country

4 0 0
                                    

They Bore No Love
Upon this blessed, verdant land
Whose riches they would rather exploit
To the detriment of others
They see not its preservation
But to profit in its destruction
They circle in the sky like vultures
To feast on the corpse
Of this verdant but doomed land
Damned are its inhabitants
Let them be cast to the abyss
Damned is its history
It shall be expunged
To profit and live with the loot
It is the bottomless desire
Of these treacherous ghouls

Poetry of the FuriousWhere stories live. Discover now