Sacrifice.

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Those frivolous faces grow and grin


Speaking foreign tongues to win our hearts


With the distinct honor of an hours race


Stepping down to break the haste in shattering


Laughter that cuts my veins, spilling life away


Now slain as such spirits were in their prime, 


Marring dusted bottles of bitter wine, to be raised 


In a frightening toast, of what is to become the


Most imminent sign of our destruction. 

Created: Jul 07, 2012

Tags: sacrifice, poem, words, writing, freeword, poetry, drabble

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