As the dust moves

[Unplanned_Childhood]

Rage and then they’ll come
Sigh and they will follow
It’s possible, I know
That a game is being played

On two fronts
With eight men
Each dead from
The first one removed

And rightfully so, I might add

West is where we’ll all end up
When the timer is ready to give
Slip and break and call
Run inside and look outside

Give, me—chances
I’d trade it all for circumstances
Out of the west the converts me
To worse and confines

Rage and then they’ll see
Sigh and then you’ll drown
It’s impossible, you know
That the game is almost over

On two moves
Death on the eight, four
But all I wanted was something more
Rage and we will all see