Generational Trauma

I fly through fields of empty dreaming hearts,
From followers and fears we speak among the arts,
Power to those who hold love so dear,
Betrayal is so fast to appear,
 
For men and women’s praise dims with time,
The lines are drawn through the divine,
Lifted through clouds of white,
The time has come through his strong knight,
 
Tattooed skin covers the loss,
We taught our young to fight at all costs,
Their knuckles sore till the warning is head,
We’ve trapped old temptations with new generations’ needs,
 
Through narcissistic power they will control,
Till three believe and agree to a common goal,
From pestering and influence to those who listen,
Blood spilt on stone is sure to glisten,
 
Fire from our wars count our dead,
They fought with rigor till the end,
On purple skies, loved blood spills,
Blackened soot blankets the bill,
 
A double-edged sword cuts through flesh,
Breaking the crest from the barons blessed,
And while the bottom barrel will pulse with death,
Power held to those who wield the dragons breath,
 
Of tattered cloth, and present poor,
The walk flutters through the door,
Through sacrifice and strength avenge the lost,
Heal your love and force mourning at all cost
 
Thy will fall ill of festering wounds,
The shining moon will count his days,
And while his beloved is by his side,
Death does come and doth preside