Old Cocks Die Soft In The Mud

Youth standing beside an old rogue uplifting dead spirits, bringing them to life once again. Dressing an old king who indicates he needs a young friend. Falling in the clasps of a sordid mess, an old codger could not pass the test. To the pit of horror, his scum released, a racist demon unfolds it's crease. Poor, poor man, years unexposed but as time comes to end, before the inevitable takes it's place, an old man is placed in the hot fire of disgrace. How do we fare, the youth that brought him down or was it innocence who threw in the towel and a demons catch threw a long home run. A struggle begins within the deep seated bowel. Anger begets a scorned, wretched man. His rage is ugly and his words are dark. He fires the sword far because he can. Words so deep marred with dirt, an old man strikes a young woman down. A bombastic woman with strength of a tigress. His sword bounced back and left no scars, only a smile etched upon the face of venus and mars. Old cocks die soft in the mud. Jagged knives, piercing eyes, crocodile tears, wear many a disguise. The betrayed, betrayed by an innovative youth awww telling it like it is, in the vat of old truth.