Guillotine choir
Quite a canon folk,
who have a really
crooked mentality of power,
murder is the muscle,
and their punch
is deception
The city swarms
with shadows,
the domain,
a hive of evil,
where the bees
sting like death,
they beat mercy
till it flees from their heart
with red-hot defiance
in their eyes,
they are breathing furnace,
talking inferno
that unleash hell
upon a decayed heaven;
peace is an old corpse
buried in the
graveyard of negligence,
long forgotten
by the code of hostility
They think their immune,
but the angels weep
but the grim reaper laughs,
as Satan upgrades his pawns
in this grim chess.
By Kakraba Afful
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