POOR YOU

By Julius Malah Matete Munthali A bloodline ill on a stretcher to ICU Blood cold, no hope of life together again A strange language spilling the beans A bloodline once one, now defined by daggers Within the whispers, hell broke loose A saltless statement polluted the air Shattering once the mighty one bond Poor you, be warned No one has ever fought the gods and won Stop the rubbish, or the gods will curse you more Remember, evil breeds evil, and so does good