Oxidated honey

“We are not asking you to fight for us; this is not your place.” My sweet child of summer, with honey in your veins and light in your mouth Shut your eyes as screams of the dying muffle whispers from old bones Rust pools on the tongue as older hands grip tightly the sword

My sweet child of summer, with honey in your veins and light in your mouth “You do not need to avenge us,” their words echo faintly in your ear Rust pools on the tongue as your older hands grip tightly the sword Penetrating hearts pried from cooling chests

“You do not need to avenge us,” their words echo faintly in your ear Shut your eyes as screams of the dying muffle whispers from old bones Penetrating a heart pried from cooling chest “We are not asking you to fight for us; this is not your place.”