All that remains are the ashes of southern hatred
Remnants and morsels of of charred self-respect, humanity, and patriotism
All in the name of autocratic preservation
The pale crusaders can maintain face for only so long; they carry more filth within themselves than they'd admit to
Those beautiful blossoms, grown in the cracks of abandoned crude gardens, wilt not because they forgive not and are capable not of forgetting, though, they do hide from pale spotlight and find alleviation only through lack of it.
Blood stained soil grows black blossoms of ultimate oppression
When will the soil turn, ashes fertilize the land, and the roses wilt?
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