Sipping from the glass,
A harsh taste,
The eagle is out,
Ahead of the dove.
Another sip,
Another bad trip,
Eyes cast on the floor,
Legs dragged on the walk,
The eagle is out,
Ahead of the dove.
Last sip,
The fire is out,
Hands are sent away to the ground,
Another line falls and crashes its future,
The eagle is out,
Ahead of the dove.
Saliva is swallowed,
The last gunshot,
Tears and screams under the ground,
Genetic slaves cover its past,
The eagle attacked,
The dove has died.
Holes.
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