The Long Fall of Justice Pt. 3

Whither is that road
of moat
for depraved souls
of worhips, always good
whence he stood
in deprived luxury

and so in standstills
it's the life he hated
because it's when
he can't domesticate
nut-sedges

he'd henceforth be a million souls
and burn all grasses;

we're too brutal a kind
and he's just nobody this time -
it's the long fall of justice,
so he'll be somebody tonight

The Long Fall of Justice Pt.2

You clear the night,
the day recedes with a sadness
And you got your own politics,
your own so-called waning powers,
slightly, and it gradually dies,
and you and your so-called conflicts
These ill-timed cries
at the end of the day
with all motivations lost
in these ill-timed cries
and the things you love the most
The gold and diamond that is the earth
you coat bloodied with your contrasts
and measurements and pathologies
You've made the woes
of the forgotten world
a pinch in the cheek,
while your long fall of justice
made them all vagabonds