When Death Becomes

When bombs fall from from wailing skies
And bloodied feet mourn as earth cries
Cerise soil turns its trembling roots
To bury human ashes burned to soots
When bullets pierce the deep of your heart
When life ebbs flowing out your veins depart
Still, men gang around tables and, plot
Them miscreants, the fires of unrest fan
Their guns and rifles treat human life like trifles
Down here there are no dreams to be dreamed of
I just hope that when death comes, it's going to lay me soft.