Dead In The Salt

There's bones that move beneath the earth,

And veins that never flow,

The spirit moves the hidden sins,

As hidden problems grow,

Sepulchral thrones for hidden bones,

That rule that unseen nation,

And those who would set right this wrong,

Shall bear retaliation.

We take that fight into the night,

That lies beneath the earth,

They're out of mind, far out of sight,

The lost, thought without worth,

In darkness fell, with greed to quell,

The wrongs of lofty station,

Set them to ease, those unseen souls,

Or fear retaliation.

With ribs of timber, standing 'round,

And holding back the stones,

We plunge into the static dark,

And brace the shifting bones,

Dig out the fault from shifting salt,

Unjust incarceration,

Or else, award the hateful dead,

Deserved retaliation.

None are above the falling sword,

But many dwell below,

Unquiet spirit's just reward,

Is justice, sure but slow,

And when again we see day's light,

With cause for celebration,

Remember there's no noble deed,

Escapes retaliation.