Oracle of life upon the living

As the door opens from the living,
The hearts of men retreat.

Evil lurks behind our friends, Foes are made of our kin.

The light of day grows hot as coal,
The nights grow cold from times of gold.

When logic lies, and time unfolds.
Evil hearts shake as the innocent die from the shallow acts bestowed.

Times of valor are all but lost.
Rhymes of love have turned to lust.
The brave have died from evil deeds.
cloaked from our eyes in a saints deceive.

The era of man has turned to less,
As we thank our gods for what they have blessed.

The day is gone and night has set,
the wind sings songs to come of yet.

The morrow rises a long black sun,
And demons win the swallows song.

The tide parts ways and they have come.

With chains and whips the masters cry,
your children will stay and you will die.

Parallel lies beneath our brows,
Songs of life are replace with howls.

Money brings life to the dead the masters,
Men no longer, You are now all slaves.

The demons fade fast by a hand of new,
The man in black says gods aren't you.
with a blade of fire and eerie eyes,
Their guns shall fall, And they shall die.

The man in black is not of man,
In the halls of heavens his friends stand.

The demons wrath he does not fear,
Their shrieks of pain he will not hear.
He stands alone with the race of man,
And men are freed by his hand.

Their binds unbound, But still bound by fear.
They kill their friend, For their love of gold.

He burns at night with his song not told,
The evil heart, Brings hate once more.

Old is new and new is old.
When death has come, And has said good night,
The lives of men will have been untied.

The soul of greed and lust,
Shall parish with the rest of us.

Without their gold, Without their guns.
Even for the the rich, Shall death once come.
Their souls unbound from earthly time,
They must now travel with the rest and die.

When side by side, Think no less of their pride.
A judges job is not mine, I can only testify.
Evil hearts we must not fear.
Evil men we must not hear.
Unto our own we must not fold.
But if when we do, be it not for gold.
The day of dead will become a fear.
The day of man is just a tear.
Evil hearts have lots of pride,
With our valor alone will we survive.
The door now shuts,
And the dead have come.


In memory of those who died with honor, not pride and greed
copyright 2007 Alva Richard Roberts IV