I find you sleeping behind wrought iron and Oak a vessel of mans betrayal behind cold stone eyes and finely chiseled tears cold to the touch colder in heart nay sayers and the corrupted tell tales of heritage that lock the doors in brazen upheaval this is a hearts tale in black and white that fails all men hence drowning a dream all around bodies lay in waste, Carnage and blood ringing in the New World Order while a tiny little man in a tiny little place and his tiny little son are riddled by tiny little bullets