fate's sacrifice
read the signs,
put there by those past.
they knew of what was to come,
of when the world would breathe its last
breath. and of the slayer,
that man insatiate
who by his reckless actions
doth call upon Fate.
Fate has it that we should fight,
but even if She has is so,
why must we smile upon the battlefield?
how far should we go
in the merciless slaughter that naught condemn,
tell me, how many must die?
how many, before we are blessed,
by angel tears from the sky.
is one enough? or are two
innocent lives what Fate demands?
nay, the number is of the many,
from the children of the burning sands.
and so I mourn them before their death,
for none will mourn them after.
then I wait for the horrid noise,
of a bullet, silencer of laughter.