Stabbing, strangling, shredding
Burning, hanging
Raping to death, crucifixion, bloodbath

Piles of crippled bodies
They all would tell their stories
If they weren’t victims of murder

Murder

There is no doubt, some deserve it
To be erased from this world

But what about, all the innocents
Who were just living their lives
We all could be victims of murder

Puddles of blood
Cold flesh rots

See the fear in their eyes
Staring dead to the sky
No more blood’s pumped through their veins
In death their peace they shall regain

Open your eyes