What voice would reach you,
People who speak destruction,
With end time tones or in
The poetry of Bukowski?
So primitive in modern times,
Simple and complex;
Angels and demons.

You are the people,
Future devastation of our
Children with its spilling blood
And still praying to some peace
Loving god.

You are strong but empty,
Proud by unsure,
Cultured and diverse,
You oppose:
One another.

You are ****** and Jesus,
Mohamed and Napoleon,
Breaking the world and healing
The sick,
(You are your own worst enemy,
And your only friend)

You think life is ******,
That progress is martyrdom,
That the future is not on this
World;
             Yes.

You people are grand and powerful,
Whenever a belief is found
A profound shudder of ideals
Shakes the world,
And an enormous backbone
Of righteousness in the name of;
And the stars are yours,
Wether in hope or in a last dying glance
Before death,
Wealth and prosperity
Join faith and religion
To conquest one another,
Raising reason to live, to die.

You have consulted God
Which preserve your right to make
And destroy and to ****,
The footprints of blood money,
(Whose name is a star spangled
Atrocity)
Catholic,Muslim, Christian, Jewish,Hindu:
All humanity.

You are a bed of roses with
Thorns exposed.

Oh precious people,
Where has your humanity gone?