Sorrow Of The World Poem by Troy Clark And Neal Simons

O, the sorrows of the world
As it spins like a top
And the ground grows damp
as the tear drops dropp
The innocent die
As the murderous creep
And a dirge is sung
And the children weep
For their homes are burned
And their parents dead
As a war ensues
That fills all with dread
The raven flies
Above all things
Like an angel of death
It spreads its wings
The vampires drink
All the blood they can see
As the dead pile up
And they cheer with glee
Out of habit, we sit
And we think of yore
When the world was bright
And to life we adore
Now the cities burn
And the woodlands, too
And it all lies desolate
All before you
O, the sorrows of the world
As it spins like a top
Death consuming all
As the tear drops drop.