Damn it feels good to be.......

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DON'T CHANGE

Honor is hard to pen without action
When men have backed and tracked
For passion.
A fleeting moment
Leaving no one alone but
Cutting hearts out
Like they've got no place in their own home.
A disgusting display
Of man's lust and array
Of weapons handmade
For death's hallowed day.
Skeletons of past
On Dia Del Muerte.
The day made for men
Busy digging their own graves
Hurried by piss poor promises
Of fate laden fame.
Soon dawn comes
And leaves loved ones
Wishing slower days had won
Out over building son's trust fund.
The raising of this empire
Left isolation's spire higher
Closed out by cloud
And how could now
This love pronounced expire?
On top I thought
I schemed a plot
Retreated twice as tired.
From here on out
This rule will count,
Fall out of touch?
You're fired.
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