Architects - 2012/08/18

Marching single file
Towards the sandstorm
Driven by hellish whips
Of masters with many forms

Gun in the hand
Bullet in the brain
Not even a quick death
Can put an end to the pain

Charred bones remain
Buried within two days
Yet their spirit lingers
Warning of nefarious ways

Praise their names
And send them to die
You are the executioner
Who dares not question why

Welcome dear lambs
To a sacrifice foretold
As these are the end days
Shunned by the brave and bold

Be sure to mark it
For this is the moment
That shall be the focus
Of lifetimes of atonement

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