Plastic bags with bombs in
distorted lies addled with sin
gunfire, controversy, gay meditation
Deaths first kiss gripping the nation

Europe in disarray, refugees fleeing war
people battle for their identities behind makeshift walls
grey stained weatherfronts, conflict that's never dead
panic reverberating as our streets run red

oh old friend what has the world become
infatuated with power massacre reigns beneath the sun
ignorant to the future our forebearers fought for
we blow each other up as sanity thaws

but amidst the battles, bloodshed and gore
hope still blooms, albeit crippled for
the answer's simple that'll leave all this behind;

*nurture your own faith and I will mine.