We're comrades in arms, we are the world.
We walk life with a rugged swagger.
A smirk on our face to grace the occasion,
A tilt of our heads with no care at all.
We scale the rough terrain with ease,
we fly a wounded sky with not a pinch of pain,
Who are we? The comrades!
What are we? The Comrades!
A deep, husky voice - our sole possession
Our well of emotion - dry and buried!
Buried under the sandstorm that came along,
and drove us to those gigantic pyramids,
where we waited gagged and wound-up.
Embalmed in gold, the death of a platinum life.
A nice poem to give a dying friend. haha.
ReplyDeleteIt was about the Egyptian Pharaohs, and they're no friend of mine!
ReplyDelete