I'll kill them all,
each tiny seed.
Without armour,
I watch them bleed.
Carrying their weight
because I have none.
Colouring their souls
'cause I own none.

Colouring the skies
each time one dies.
I know them all,
I know they lie
when they say they have no fear
it's just some thing they need to hear.

I am that dead morning,
that thing pale.
I am that red mourning,
this life gone stale.