Cattle and swine, oh they mew and they whine,
Under filthy black skies.
The blood on the hedge and the trees,
The cuts on our palms and our knees.
The god and the devil, the gaps in between,
The grass that won’t grow in the cemetery.
The iron and wire, and the binds that don’t tie,
Babies and wives, get tossed from the cradles and cots where they lie,
The eyes that can’t see through the smoke,
The gibbet, the noose and the rope.
The witches that drown and the witches that float,
The tears that just endlessly flow, know.
Contributed by Dead End - 2013/1/14 - 12:21
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