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6. The children of the Jackal
Folder:
The Damien books Half a league, half a league
Half a league to Hades
The valley of death swept under a breath
And the light brigade began to fade
Theirs not to make reply,
Their cold existence to defy
The palm of his hands, ragged as sand
Adjusts a lens to survey the land
Theirs not to reason why,
The jury has spoken, acquittal denied
An eye for an eye, dehumanized
Dragged by the force of the wind
Theirs but to do or die,
A bullet to be bonafide
Hungry and cold, like the wolf, so cold
Yet he walks upright as a man
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