Tragedy, tolls before the glare
Of his iron sights
Like a slaughtered beast
Left rotting in the day,
Before a waft of smoke
And a guilt-ridden stare
Tragedy, tolls before the glare
Of his iron sights
Like a slaughtered beast
Left rotting in the day,
Before a waft of smoke
And a guilt-ridden stare
Keeping the world immersed in stanza.
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