• Swords sail in red, souls are meant to soar.
    The people have tears to bled. Higher laugh at their tore,
    to see their slaves cry and weep.

    Royalty is at their blame, the guilt breaks the dam.
    Lords' and Ladys' try to tame, yet they can't play the sham.

    'Collapse', yell the under, 'Silence', demand the rulers.
    The war arrives like thunder, as power flows to sewers.

    'Hoorah!' flies the call, 'NO!' falls the crowns.
    Rulers run in emptiness, while peasants drink in riches.

    To live out life over fall, sift through years wearing frowns.
    No longer penniless, skin needing stitches.
    Peasants turned nobles laugh at their former sweat and reap.