Funeral fog

Spirit of the north

Funeral fog
Cowled in utter grief
I am the priest of a new disorder
Whose flag unfurled
Bears a hatred for the western world

There is no compromise
No piped lament to stay the blind
Just a shrike cacophony of war

Ashes ember, fires rise
No longer am I Palestined
Now I drown in a loss worth fighting for!

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