Stabbing, strangling, shredding
Burning, hanging
Raping to death, crucifixion, bloodbath
Piles of crippled bodies
They all would tell their stories
If they weren’t victims of murder
Murder
There is no doubt, some deserve it
To be erased from this world
But what about, all the innocents
Who were just living their lives
We all could be victims of murder
Puddles of blood
Cold flesh rots
See the fear in their eyes
Staring dead to the sky
No more blood’s pumped through their veins
In death their peace they shall regain
Open your eyes
