"Mr. Mayor, the mission burns
the zombies are marching, they close on the square
Families are cold, look down at their souls
huddled in camps on the old marble steps of City Hall
Faith in their God, that's all that they've got."
Across the room, beyond the pane
the whole world is churning, bleeding and burning
hailstorms and ash
The moon is as blood
over the soldiers who sag in the mud.
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