Undead
Regardless of nature and creatures Travelling in the blade of leave Moon lightened in the bright solitude Protecting the breath of air Path are moisture laden, relatives cry for success, shines in terror-striken and Claps in trodden; life of a poor. Drowned in faith but are against truth and loss my power in struggle having all in heart of deeds. Lonely raindrops finds a ship but myself never the creep. Mouth zipped by rich and laughs a preach Spoken words bounces and the scrolling eyes are turned down, strips over forehead. My truths are crushed and battling over butter slips the poor Man never dies a wicked but stubbornness are mine to not let flow by those useless hundreds