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