Some seem to choose the easy way
But do not rush to put the blame
The world works in mysterious ways
Yet comprehension is a rear comodity nowdays.
Some work in swet while the other pray
Allowing earthly angels to provide their day.
Both have their saints and hunters stalking for a pray.
All trying to find a place under the sun
Amongst the ruins of an ancient shrine.
Spill drops of wine and blood to wet the roses
Each one has different aims and causes.
The shame of old becomes the aim of youth
A holy quest for some is searching for the truth
While others mere hope to reach a shaky truce.
The sacrificial lamb is lost in space and time
A moon can be a witness of romance or crime.