In the depths of the mountains,
A clear river runs.
Beneath the crystal surface,
They hide their dirty guns.

Amongst the living and amongst the dead,
Are the secrets that haven’t been kept.
By the ones with filthy hands,
Responsible for those who have cried, and those who have wept.

Born without kindness and virtue,
These people walk the Earth.
Blind of the consequences they face,
For their minds are filled with poison and dirt.

Their best kept secrets stay with them forever,
Terrorizing their life, moment after moment.
In a constant state of guilty worry…
They contemplate their first and last atonement.

The lives they’re leading are bitter,
But they see it as a precious prize.
However amongst the pain and suffering they’ve caused,
They are making their way to a torturing demise.

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