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Taste of tears stays the same

Like taste of mud, and rusty blade

Taste of tears will never change

The salt of Earth, begotten, in endless names

Herd, under phosphorus clouds

Silver-braided firmament of raging death

Ruins and severed flesh mark the change

Settled down by the ruthless reign

Soil of the unforgettable mourn

Slated for horrid, cold calculated toll

Lost, as the dead can't speak

Another thread, another fingers govern the show

Script written on everlasting shame

All quiet on the western front

We neglect

As vultures gather above the frail

Commiserate!

As weakness tempts the beast of prey

Empty words, empty deeds,

This is all we can afford

Keeping the conscience fed with tears

Glitter of shepherds,

Golden mouths and glorious words

Praise the dead and unite the fools