The dawn is shining down
Smoldering the sleeping silence
Of this willing sacrifice
Shame seems to fill this stillness
Swelling like a pregnant hore
Knowing you are meant for this
So few mourn and are torn
But they do
Identifying with the irony in your eyes
And all the darkness that deadens the skies
That you were chosen for this
And again this passes
Another day for the masses
While they cower with coarse fear
The murder is marked clearly on there face
