Yearning for a spirit to see the land-minds in a hidden grave
Acknowledging the Reaper knows no bounds
Yet, apprehension hangs to be a lone skeleton in a haunted house
Born in a war that sells solidarity
The sheep is left to guide a blind shepherd
Told to Advise the bleeding
Left Dried out and pail
Rest now darling, but
I will not bandage
Will not try to heal your pitted rib cage
But, Will show you how to survive with the splinters
