THE OPEN MIC CYPHER

[Soulstice]

If wars could end, maybe we could meet at the borders edge
After they had cleared the assortment of corpses left
Strewn across, in morbid spread - this nationalism: a nascent sense
That's trained you well -now go and take these waning breaths
Engaging threats - order a tangos death with your captain-in-arms
From where you were taken aback by the Capital's charm
My tacit disarmament turns savage barrage - we are nearing the End Days
Turn your damp cheek towards his imperial chest plate
Storming the palace has left my drawn and quartered again
Please, pay a visit to the Black Cells.. since wars never end