by Jerome Jacinto (chichapie)
Restless children with their fancy tools,
Come forth and bring where death shall rule.
Abandon such heart of hope and light,
When face bog down to the rot and blight.
Venture to the hill of fallen graves,
No will or stance can stand the brave.
As every life deserve to be of attention,
Lock in a chain by this evil obsession.
Yet to dare against what veterans do,
Beyond the unknowable, damnable fate.
For here you are, to fend the threat,
Of the danger that lurk in the net.
Though none shall live, all shall die,
Deeds that print as heroes of time.
Let the wind carry the ashes and dust,
Let the armour of skin turn pale to rust.